


Out of the fog a warrior was born

by KimsyWims



Series: Inquisitor Isala Shadow: The fog warrior of Seheron [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blood and Gore, Bull is a sweetheart, Cheese, Dorkiness, Dragon blood, Dragons, Drinking, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, Fighting, Finger Sucking, Fluff, Fog Warriors, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Jaws of Hakkon Spoilers, Krem is an amazing friend, Laughter, M/M, Masturbation, Mention of past rape/non-con, Mysteries, Near Death Experiences, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Panic Attacks, Past Slavery, Past Torture, Protective Iron Bull, Protective horned giants over tiny dragony elf, Recovery, SO MUCH FLUFF, Secrets, Serious Injuries, Smut, Survival, Suspicions, Violence, battles, hidden past, mention of past underage, stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-04-28 21:38:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 54
Words: 147,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5106632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KimsyWims/pseuds/KimsyWims
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Varric had seen a lot of crazy shit in his life, living in Kirkwall it was expected to see crazy shit, especially being friends with Hawke. He had met his share of intimidating elves who had certain very distinct looks and who made very blooded entrances into his life. But this one, this elf took all the awards of strange people he had met, not only because his hand was crackling green like the sky.</p><p>Isala Lavellan is not just a regular Dalish rogue. In fact he is not very Dalish at all, he is a proud Fog Warrior from Seheron taught to fight for his freedom. As a favor for the keeper of clan Lavellan he is being hurled into a world of chaos after the explosion at the conclave</p><p>How well will a fog warrior handle no longer working hidden in the fogs of Seheron's Jungles, working with a Qunari spy? Short answer, not at all, but Bull is rather good at talking his way into people's comfort zones... or their pants.<br/>Also, why does Isala smell like a dragon?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1: A silent promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Varric and Solas is overwhelmed by demons when Cassandra comes to the rescue with an elf who will not say a word but will fight like a master. Hopefully this elf does not have murder on his mind, at least not murder aimed to them.

**9:41 Dragon -Haven-**

Varric had seen a lot of crazy shit in his life, living in Kirkwall it was expected to see crazy shit, especially being friends with Hawke. He had met his share of intimidating elves who had certain very distinct looks who made very blooded entrances into his life. But this one, this elf took all the awards of strange people he had met, not only because his hand was crackling green like the sky. 

Him and Chuckles along with some of the agents from Haven had been ass deep in demons, almost literary the goo were actually starting to cover the ground under them. It was just on this side of painfully exhausting. To be perfectly honest, they weren't winning any ground here either. With the rift open, spewing out more and more demons with no end, there was just so much they could do about it all.

Varric was running low on bolts for Bianca and Chuckles seemed to be running low of his mana, glass bottles already scattered around the mage telling that he had already been chugging down lyrium potions to stay up. He had lost time on how long they had been at it, fighting these damn demons and no change. 

Then Cassandra had joined them, bringing an elf. Jet black dreadlocks and braids and a flurry of knives was all Varric had time to see before the elf was all around them. The elf never seemed to be at one solid place, instead constantly seemed to be at all the places, fighting all of the demons around at once. But at the same time that he seemed to be everywhere he also never seemed to actually be anywhere.

At first Varric had at first tried to aim to keep from shooting anywhere the elf might be but the elf was simply impossible to locate, moving too fast and in between all the demons at once. He cursed and just shot off an arrow hoping for the best. It hit the intended target, elf uninjured by it and Varric took that as a sign that he'd be able to shoot freely. 

The last demon, a shade was cut down by the elf, daggers cutting through demon flesh, a last screech and the elf was painted black. Not that he wasn't already black by demon gore, it was a rather gruesome sight to be honest, but again it was demons. They had it coming. 

Chuckles grabbed onto the demon gore covered elf and raised that left crackling hand up against the pulsing rift that was cutting through the sky. Green wines lashed out between the elf's hand and the rift then with a loud sound of an explosion the rift imploded on itself and shut, hopefully forever, or at least long enough for Varric to retire or you know die of old age.

Varric assumed that greetings would be in order now that the fight was done, the rift closed and the injured being dragged back by their comrades. But the elf just stood staring at the marked hand then cocked a prefect black eyebrow in question for Solas. But there was no words. Come to think of it, Varric was quite certain the elf hadn't even opened his mouth during the entirety of the fight.  

"We think that... this elf is a mute." 

There was that pause in the middle pulling attention to the fact that she had said the elf and not him or her. Usually Varric was good at reading people, guessing age, profession, where they were from and especially gender. His eyes trailed down but the pants revealed nothing either. The only thing he could say about this elf was that well, it was an elf with dark skin, so most likely that he, she came from somewhere north.

He could tell that if he ever wrote this elf into a book, he would use the description  _'tribal beauty wrapped in a mystery'._ There were no real curves to speak of, not that that meant anything when it came to elves, many elves were very flat even if they were women. The elf's face was sharp, all high cheekbones, a fitting jaw and pointed ears.

A tattoo ran from somewhere under those black dreads, up across his face, over his cheekbones, under the eye and over the nose, two strokes of the same pale black square lines beneath the one running across his face, three more on his chin. There was no other decorations to the tattoos, they were straight, no kinks and must have taken a long time to do. All lines were straight telling of how the elf had not squirmed around in the process.

What was most striking about the whole elf were those bright yellow eyes, defined by those black perfect eyebrows. What was it with elves and having perfect eyebrows?

Varric might just have to write a book about this elf. If he could only manage to wring out some more information of him other than dark skinned beauty. The only thing cloth wise fitting on the elf was the tight leather breeches he wore that seemed to be costume made for him, the rest of his clothes were clearly a rather poor excuse of a mercenary armor, or rather a green jacket that had no right calling itself an armor.

"Whatever magic caused that mark in your hand also caused the breach. I theorized the mark would also be able to close the rifts that have opened in the breach's wake. It seems I was correct."

"Meaning it could also close the breach itself." 

"Possibly, it seems you hold the key to our salvation." 

Still silence, the elf had adopted a perfectly emotionless mask as he looked at them all. He did feel a bit uneasy over how impossible it was to read the elf. Varric liked to have information about people, preferably before he met them even. He'd have to send some letters to his contacts up north asking, maybe they knew about the tattoos.

"Good to know, here I thought we'd be ass deep in demons forever. Varric Tethras, rouge, story teller, occasionally unwelcome tag along." He greeted the elf.

Right, there were those yellow eyes aimed at him. He didn't know why he had the uncanny feeling that he was being watched and judged by a high dragon trying to figure if he was worth being dinner or now. But Varric was used to a lyrium infused elf glowering at people and reaching his hands into people's chests. This elf couldn't be much worse than that, and he had befriended Fenris quite fine. Of course, with Fenris it had been the elf asking Hawke for a favor, here it was them asking the elf to close a breach and potentially commit suicide in the process. 

The elf looked at him for a while longer before slowly holding his hand up making a small gesture with it. A gesture he knew because one of the carta dwarves in Kirkwall he had made business with once, had got his tongue cut out and only spoke sign language. The sign that this elf did, was a greeting. 

"Ah! There we go! Practically friends." He said and chuckled lightly.

"Wait! He can... Tell us what happened!" Cassandra demanded and the elf just looked at her emotionless again, the only sign that was made was the agitated flicker of pointed ears, Fenris did that one a lot around Anders or Merrill. 

"We do not have time for this, we should head for the breach or I fear his mark will grow worse." Solas pointed out. 

That, the elf **did**  listen to and simply turned on the spot and began the hike towards the breach.


	2. 2: The breach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The assault of the breach. From now on it will be from our mystery elf's point of view.

The elf in question was not certain he should be amused or offended these people had not even managed to figure our that he was a he and not a she yet, but neither of the people around him was forwards enough to ask him straight out. They hinted at times on masked ways to get to know the answer and he deliberately refused to answer, either by just ignore them or by diving into fights.

He knew exactly how hard it was to guess what gender he was, it was one of the main reason he had once fetched a high price when first sold into slavery.

Granted that he did refused to in anyway make any sort of conversation with the human or the other elf. He had heard the other human, the redhead, when he woke up call the human warrior Cassandra so he assumed that was her name. Not that he had payed her further attention to actually know if that was her name or just a nickname, he hadn't heard the other elf's name at all and was not about to ask for it either.

When he had woken up he had been shackled, imprisoned and brought to his knees on the cold stone floor in the dark. Cassandra and her redhead friend were the only ones that had been around and therefor he had decided they were guilty of putting him there. There was nothing he had to say to her after that, he had spent enough of his life in chains for that to be a forgiving action, he didn't care that they couldn't possibly know anything about his past to know why he despised them so much for it, chains on anyone who had no way to fight back was a low magister move.

To the other elf he simply did not give greetings, because he had touched him. He despised being touched unless permission given, or if it was his friends, they were allowed to touch him because he knew that they were not a threat against him, and meant no harm. His friends knew that even if they were friends, touching him was a dangerous move and could possibly end with a knife to the guts.

His friends that now possibly laid dead at the end of this road up by the temple.

He quickly pushed that thought aside. His friends was the only thing he had left that was something akin to a family. Orchid, Tenek, Rowena, Asala, Septimus, the only people he had ever been comfortable with. He huffed and kept walking up the road to push the thought away. There was still hope, he needed that hope, needed to be allowed to believe they were alive.

The dwarf hadn't touched him, had not bound him and he had seemed to piss off the human. The dwarf was thus on his top list of people right now. Varric was his name. Varric Tethras, he was rather certain he had heard that name before, or maybe read it in a book somewhere. When Varric introduced himself he had signed his greeting instead of speaking it out loud. They believed he couldn't speak and thus they did not expect speech from him. Win, win situation for him really.

By the time they came to the camp, or middle stand on a bridge that he guessed was around half the way to the breach, the dwarf had given him a nickname. Snapdragon. He had just rolled his eyes but said or done nothing. He did not care what the people here called him, he wasn't going to stay long enough for it to matter anyway. If he could fix the green hole in the sky he would, then he would return home before they could put him in iron again. Never again would he be a prisoner.

The angry human dressed in red and white that he had learned were the humans priests, or chantry brothers and sisters they called themselves, wanted him put back in iron at once. But the two women disagreed, it gave them plus points but he was still not liking them at all. The reason they didn't want him to stay locked up was because he seemed to be the only one able to fix this whole mess.

The mark on his hand, that was something new on his body he had no idea what it was, or how it had ended up on him. All he knew was that it made his hand and arm hurt like hell. For all he knew, he was dying and would soon join his dead friends. That was some sort of comfort he supposed, the usual comfort. They lead a life that was surrounded by death an loss. Being a warrior such as himself meant that he was fighting both vints and Qunari, which meant that there was two fronts who tried to kill them.

As the humans stood there arguing he just listened with a half ear. He wanted to know what was going on but he was also occupied marking out good routes to run if he would be forced to do such thing. The two women gave him the choice on how to proceed. Planning and strategies weren't his strong side. Orchid and Tenek were the ones who put out plans and strategies, he was just the shadow who carried out death.

The decision he was faced with now was a direct confrontation with the troops or the more sneaky approach of the mountain path. True to his nature as a rouge he picked the mountain path. If he had been armed and armored with his own usual gear he would have taken the direct assault but all he had was two blunt daggers, a horrible armor and not much of his equipment, only what had survived stashed in his breeches. 

The mountain path proved a few minor fights with more demons, a sharper pair of daggers and a couple of scouts saved from certain death by a rift. He quietly wondered how anyone here in the south were even alive. Between horrible fighting styles that contained mostly slash and hope for the best instead of slash, dodge, block and the the cold, he just figured them all to have self died by it. If the Qunari ever decided to invade the south they wouldn't be faced with much resistance, and that was a freaky thought if any. 

When they stepped into the wasteland of what had once been the temple of sacred ashes his chest was aching. There was not even their bodies to be found, all that was left was charred twisted remains of so many dead he gave up counting. He forced his face in neutral over it, this was not the time to mourn the fallen. However, as Cassandra and the other elf that he had figured was named Solas, spoke about the breach, he gave himself time to close his eyes and moved his lips in a soundless last goodbye to his friends, hoping they would find rest in whatever came after. 

Solas explained that opening and closing the rift underneath the breach would possibly be enough to close the the breach high above it in the sky, that this rift was the first and should be directly connected to it. He silently looked up into the green of the sky, it was worth a try the very least, they could not do more than fail, well they probably could make this all a whole lot worse if Solas was wrong. He didn't wait for the others before he without warning began walking towards the stairs that seemed to lead down to the other floor where he'd be able to reach the large green rift. 

Besides, walking first was something he was used to. Not to take command and make up plans, but he was a rouge and good at spot hidden traps. Not that it was very likely that there would be any here, but he'd rather himself disarm any unlikely trap than someone walking into a trap causing a second explosion. He was fairly certain a person only got that much luck that they could survive it once and he wasn't sure if Varric was any good at spot traps.

"Now is the hour of our victory. Bring forth the sacrifice."

He stopped mid step and turned his head to look at the breach. That voice had certainly not been in his head because he could see the other look around for the menacing voice that only carried the news of the bad sort. He knew his ears was twitching, they did that when he was tense and he quietly stroke his fingers over the spot of his pants that had the little vial.

"What are we hearing?" Cassandra asked from his side.

"At a guess, the person who created the breach." Solas said in a matter of factly.

He frowned at that, he hoped the person responsible for this laid burned and charred to the ground. He couldn't remember any of this. He could remember arriving, making camp some away from the templars and mages, he remembered him and Rowena sneak around to find out some news then... nothing. He couldn't remember the explosion, to be honest he hadn't quite taken it all in yet either. When he finally would, he'd be broken, he knew that. So much life, his friends... He forced himself to push it away again.

"Keep the sacrifice still." The voice rung out again.

"Someone help me!" A new voice, female this time.

"That is divine Justinia's voice." Cassandra clearly knew that voice even if he had no clue who it belonged to.

He walked down the stairs then jumped the last way to get down from the platform. His hand again began to glow and crackle painfully and he had to force away a sound of pain that was tearing in his arm and up his shoulder. He knew that even if you couldn't talk you could still make sounds of pain, the reason he didn't do them was the usual for him. He had once been a slave and slaves that made sounds let their masters understand that they could hurt them, have control over them. So he settled for a hissing and flexing his fingers instead. 

Solas began to explain something about echoes and the fade bleeding through into this place. He wasn't very fond of spirits and demons more than that he killed all demons that came in his way, this was something he didn't care enough to bother to get to know. Instead he began walking closer to the green in the sky curious of how it was affecting his hand.

Then suddenly the whole scenery changed for his eyes and instead of just voices a scene played for them. A woman in those priest clothes was held over the ground, presumably by the help of magic, it was hard to tell through this vision. A dark figure towering up over her in a dark mist, not making a complete picture of who or what her was.

There was no doubt in that this woman was the _'sacrifice'_  the dark mist and menacing voice was talking about. He felt his blood boil of anger, blood magic and blood sacrifices. They believed that he had been part of this? He would never be part of blood sacrifices. But the question remained even to him, how _had_  he ended up with a mark telling otherwise?

"Keep the scrifice still." 

"Someone, help me!" 

He stared at the scene, expecting to see the woman killed but instead the doors bashed open and he was staring at himself. Dreads neatly put up in their now missing cord. A tight leather armor plating his chest and a grim look on his face. Behind him an equally pissed off dwarf stood, Rowena, holding a great-sword at the ready to fight, as they had so many times before.

"What's going on here!" Rowena demanded to know in her usual harsh manner.

"Run while you can! Warn them!" The chantry woman called out.

"We have intruders. Slay them." 

A bright light flashed and he quickly pulled his hands up to cover his eyes from the sudden light. When he let them back down the vision had faded and they were back at the ruins. He looked around trying to see his friend but Rowena was nowhere to be seen. Whatever had happened... Rowena had not made it.

There would be time fro grief, but now was not it, he knew that, but his heart did not. 

"So you were there! The most holy called out to you." Cassandra looked and sounded shocked.

He was silently standing there trying to handle his sorrow that was threatening to let loose, he didn't even bother to turn to look at Cassandra. Instead he pulled out his daggers and twirled them once in his hands. Anger, fury, hate and the wish for vengeance. Those were good, those kept him going. He wanted Rowena's killer dead, he wanted someone to pay for taking his family from him. 

The other elf had said that if the rift open there would be demons coming through. At least then he'd be allowed to bury his daggers in something. He walked over with steady steps and held his left hand up. He didn't give a warning, maybe not the brightest plan he had had lately but luckily Cassandra must have noticed what he was planning because she called the archers and warriors in the room to stand ready. He unleashed the pull that was crackling from his left hand. 

The rift shifted then exploded, shades and a desire demon fell out of the rift. A cruel laughter and the crackling of electricity broke out in the room. He barely  could hear it, his ears were roaring by blood, in his chest his broken heart was sealing away in a steel box, leaving nothing but the burning rage of loss to ravage freely in his body. The demon roared his laughter again, the elf flashed a dangerous predatory grin, his white teeth flashing, sharper than they should be but not to the point of pointed. 

He surged forwards, shifted to shadow form and slid through the solid body of the demon, twirled around and sank his dagger into the creatures back. He kept out of the way for hits from the other shades, from the demon, or accidental allied arrows, swords or spells. Just hacking and slashing from all angles he could get his hands of. 

As they fought, he had to give Cassandra some credit for the way she handled herself. She knew how to slash, dodge and block and when to do it. He could certainly respect that in her, she was not forgiven but worthy of respect. Before he knew it he was keeping his eyes on the three other people that had traveled up the mountain with him to get here. If he saw a shade or anything too close to the rouge and mage he'd flicker off a knife to stop them from being injured. 

As they had fought for a good while he managed to get up on the demon's back. He held on by grabbing the shaft of the one dagger he had buried in the demon's neck, the other one slashing and hacking the other side of it's neck and head. He was sprayed with demon blood for the effort but a loud crack and he made a last rough cut and pull and the head along with himself fell off in one direction while the body of the demon fell the other direction. 

He ignored his dripping clothes and hair, ignored the stares that was given him, he had fought in a frenzy that he only did when lost all control of himself. That had always ended up messy, but it got the job done. He held his left hand up again looking at the rift then forced his last energy on closing it. 

He was exhausted. So very tired. His body was fighting to work with him after what he had just done to that demon. His blood boiling, eyes gleaming of something not quite elven, something predatory. He didn't notice how his vision began to darken before the shadows and the darkness wrapped around him like a blanket, welcoming him home.

He was out cold before he hit the ground.


	3. 3: Bets won and lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A throwback of Isala's life and Varric winning a bet.

**9:34 Dragon. -Seheron-**

Isala sat perched up on a branch of a a mossgrown tree at the edge of the little village. The jungles of Seheron keeping him neatly hidden out of sight from anyone who would happen to look his direction, not that anyone did, they were too occupied with their own day by day duties, but just in case. Any minute now and Orchid would be in position and it would be time to act.

The sun blazed down on him through the leaves above his head. Hot and comfortable friendly rays, licking his skin under the coat of white paint. The paint was part of the fog warriors tactics, to vanish in their fog, making them nearby impossible to spot. Even his hair had been dipped in the white paint. It was hell to get it out of the dreads but he needed to blend in with the fog that would soon surround the village. Already he could see how mist was forming over the roads, playfully whipping against peoples feet, mist that everyone simply assumed was part of the natural jungle habitat they lived in, but he knew better. 

Today they would strike an attack against a shipment from Tevinter, the Qunari had the same idea as them, Isala had spotted several of the usual young beresaad but also one of the antaam. Which meant that they were aware of the shipment that was coming into port today and had plans against it.

From what Rowena and Septimus had gathered about this shipment it had been suggested that it would mostly contain healing supplies, potions, poultices, bandages and other such things required to take care of injuries. Orchid knew how to make healing potions and poultices but bandages, needles, tread and other such supplies were hard to come by for the rebels.

This village was one of the more rebel friendly villages. Whenever they noted that the fog would spread the people who lived there, even those under the Qun, would know to go inside and wait out the attack instead of take up arms and loose their lives in battle against an enemy they could not see. They knew that the fog warriors wouldn't kill any civilians, it had even happened at times that Isala and his group had made sure bandits couldn't raid the village. For the trouble the people at times could be swayed to trade with them in a pinch.

The ones who attacked them in this village was the beresaad or other military under the Qun. They  would fight, or rather, they would pull up their swords and fall to the ground with their blood painting the streets before the high ranking member understood what had happened.

This village was rather small, it was rather rare to see many warriors here at all. Isala sometimes wondered if it was because the village was so small and insignificant or if it was a strategic move from the Qunari because this was known fog warrior territory and they were simply tired at loosing their people. Isala choose to believe in the second idea, that would mean the Qunari minds wasn't so unbreakable as they wanted everyone to believe and the fog warriors was starting to win slow ground.

But today they were a decent number of them. Enough to make this more tricky than it should be. Instead of just going after terrified vints they would have to go through the Qunari as well. Not that it meant a larger concern, they were used to fight both Qunari and Tevinters.

The last time the Qunari tried to root them out civilians had got hurt in the battles. Not by the fog warriors of course. Him and his friends along with every other fog warrior knew who was civilian and who were Qunari, Tal-Vashoth or Vints aiming to kill them. No, the civilians who had died that day had died by Qunari hand as they accidentally took them down, thinking them to be fog warriors.

It hadn't brought the Qunari any success either. The Qunari had even brought a Saarebas to the fight but they had orchid. A leashed mage had nothing on a free mage. The Qunari had died and all they had managed to do was to give Isala a scar over his lips and give Rowena a black eye that she had complained about for a day or two.

Of course, it wasn't just his little group that was attacked by Qunari trying to root them out. nNot all groups were as skilled or lucky as Isala and his group, nor where all groups blessed with a healer mage. The Qunari got one, maybe two fog warrior every fourth month or so, while the warriors continued to cut down people like if they were melting butter.

Surviving was simply a question of knowing your fights, knowing when it was too dangerous or when something was simply not going to work, then admit defeat to those times and retreat deeper to the jungle where they had the advantage of knowing the ground if the Qunari followed.

He watched as the mist was quickly thickening up to a fog in knee height. The kitshock was now speaking to the magister, both parts tense. The Qunari holding their swords tighter and the vints twitching fingers on their staffs. As they spoke they seemed oblivious to the fog that was thickening. Isala grinned, his sharp teeth gleaming, they never realized until it was too late, that the mist was not just the jungle mist. He light and easily jumped down out of his tree, pulled his daggers free from their confinements on his back, just another minute and the square would be nothing more than a white deep fog. 

Before Seheron, before Isala was a fog warrior he once had a master. Like any Tevinter elf. His master used to call him pet, or Pulchra when he was good, it meant beautiful, because he was, jet black hair that had once been silky and smooth to touch. Dark unmarked skin, pretty blue eyes, a defined face and a slender perfectly shaped body. 

But he wasn't Pet or Pulchra any longer. He was Isala and he belonged to none other than himself, he fought for freedom, not just his own but the freedom for Seheron. His face no longer unmarked as it once had, broad brands of tattoos ran across it under the current white paint, scars covered his muscled body from battles and his eyes were no longer blue, but yellow. His hair was still long but the dreads and the braids kept it from feeling silky to touch. 

The thing that had changed his eyes had also changed his teeth and was rooted within his blood, a series of bad decisions that had lead to a change in his physic much to Tenek's and Orchids delight. Would he ever have the choice to do it again, to change his past, he would do it again just as he had. He had lived with what was inside his blood for years now and it had become part of him and helped him do what he did.

Isala knew how to move silent and quickly in the fog with used expertise, knowing exactly where he was going, where to put his bare feet so he wouldn't trip and fall, who he was targeting and in what order. His targets were the mages firstly, they were what was most dangerous. Swords could be dodged, a well done spell, not very much, if suck in a crushing prison or a walking bomb there was nothing to do than to hope Orchid had time to cut the spell short or die in agony. 

He wasn't alone taking people out from the fog of course. Tenek, Rowena and Septimus would be out there with him, attacking by stealth before anyone would know what was going on, and if it was figured out the source of death would be in several places at once so the enemy wouldn't know where to aim their fighting back.

Orchid would move around, heal what she needed, place out paralyze glyphs. Keelah who was their fog dancer kept out of the fights, grabbed slaves or civilians who had not made it out from the fog in time and made sure to guide them out of harms reach.

He pulled himself out of thoughts as the shouts began. The fog had devoured the entire village, the Vints finally realizing the problem had as always began shouting when it happened. Stupid really, it made the fog warriors know exactly where they were. Well, they knew that anyway, they had their ways to navigate in the fog. But when the Vints began screaming there was really no way they would be able to remain hidden.

Isala heard a loud whistle that could have been a bird and darted in to begin the attack.

* * *

**9:41 Dragon -The Hinterlands-**

"So this revered mother want to talk to him? Like have a conversation with snapdragon here? Does she know he's mute?" 

Isala looked at Varric as he spoke up then looked at Cassandra in question. He agreed with Varric's question, why did people insist on talking with him if they thought he couldn't actually talk? It didn't make sense in his world, he once had a mute woman in his little group and she rarely wanted people to initiate conversation with her. She always enjoyed sitting listening to the rest of them but she wasn't really the one to make much conversation other than to teach the rest of them sign, but people around here insisted in having lengthy tries to conversations with him here.

When he had woke back up after stabilizing the breach Varric had been there, sitting beside the bed to watch over him. Or rather the dwarf had sat on the chair beside the bed and snored so loudly Isala had woken up and thrown a pillow at him. He liked Varric though, the dwarf didn't always show it but he cared, a lot about the people around him. He reminded a bit about Tenek, always smiling, cracking jokes and pretending never to be serious but then was the one who always made sure to ask if things were okay.

Varric of course had a much more honeyed tongue than Tenek. The dwarf could spin any tale and make it sound like it was all truth and no lies. He could probably claim that the sun was purple and the sea yellow and people would believe him, while Tenek could say good morning and it would sound like he'd lied twice over with that stupid grin he usually wore. 

Varric liked to talk, and he talked a lot. Usually Isala would have been slightly uncomfortable since talking usually meant that people wanted answers, sure Varric wanted those too but he never expected them. The dwarf would tell stories or just blabber on about anything, everything or nothing, or some times tell again why he was there.

Varric's favorite thing to do was to make up stories or theories of who Isala was though. Yet so far Varric had decided that he was an Antivan crow who has left the guild. Since leaving the Antivan Crows wasn't a thing people did the crows had cut out his tongue so he wouldn't be able to spill the crow secrets. Not at all true but it was highly amusing to listen to. The dwarf had also told a wild tale containing monks, a lost princess, a pack of wolves, three doves and a dragon to explain how Isala knew sign language.

For his trouble Isala had given  him the name Shadow for Varric to know and use as he pleased. He had also very briefly told about how he had ended up at the conclave as a favor for the Dalish clan Lavellan. This information had been given to Leliana who had sent scouts to speak to the Dalish clan for information on him. The clan had said they knew only his name, Isala Shadow and nothing more, even if he knew they knew more about him. He would have to send them a thank you for it later.

Varric had spun a story about that too of course. How clan Lavellan sent out their best silent assassin to spy on the humans and their petty war. He had managed to make is sound almost believable, adding in how Isala had joined the Dalish after leaving the crows. Very colorful and probably as far from the truth he could go, but it had made him laugh. If he'd ever let these people know more about him, Varric would be the one who'd know first.

But now he had other duties than to listen to Varric make up more stories. After he had stabilized the breach the humans had taken to start calling him the herald of Andraste, that had mixed reactions among the people of Thedas. Many thought he was the savior sent to do the makers work, others such as the chantry called him a fraud and the cause of the divine's death.

A revered mother had asked to talk with him by the crossroads of the Hinterlands and Leliana had thought it a good idea since this woman knew the players of the game better than she did herself. She believed that helping this woman would give them help in return. Isala wasn't much for religion and he wasn't much for the new made inquisition that they had started. But he saw the threat in the breach and he had promised himself to fix it before he could return home to mourn his fallen friends.

That was also something that hadn't quite hit yet. He knew it in his heart that Rowena was dead, that they were all dead, but he couldn't take it in. Not if he was to fix the world. Grief would have to wait. He had wandered back up there once or twice. Looking for the bodies, or their weapons. He had found nothing and he couldn't say if it was a relief or not. Part of him wanted to take it as a sign that they weren't actually dead, but he knew better, he just didn't want to know better. 

"Yes, and you will be translating for him. I do not know if mother Giselle know sign, but I doubt it" Cassandra said in reply.

"Any time seeker."

Isala didn't hate Cassandra, he would lie if he said he enjoyed her company but he did respect her skill in battle and her wish to do good. She also seemed to stand on his side, for now. She had defended him against Roderick and imprisonment and he wasn't more stupid or stubborn than to accept an ally when one was so freely given to him. The very least to keep him from being chained and executed.

When they came to the crossroads there was fighting already going on between the inquisition forces, rouge templars and rouge apostates. Isala was quick in pulling out his new daggers and hurtled himself into the midst of the fight. It was more difficult without the fog to keep away from enemy swords or spells but he knew how to cloak himself in shadows even if the sun was shining. Knew how to fight someone in melee battle without getting too injured.

He danced around the templars exploited their weaknesses, sent of flying daggers at the apostates and sank knives into unguarded backs. He made a flurry out of himself, dodging in and out of the shadows from several positions all at once it seemed, phasing through his targets and stabbed them in the back. 

He took a sword to his hip as he missed the templar coming from his left when he had been forced to protect an inquisition recruit from a mage. He stabbed the templar repeatedly until he was nearing death. Letting out a loud cry he pulled energy from every templar around him. Forced their blood to gush out of their wounds to draw it to himself, giving his own body a regeneration boost while the templars effectively bleed out on the ground.

His hip was healed by the action but a scar was left as proof that it had happened. But at least he was able to continue the fight, helping the others. Not that it took long, soon the templars and apostates laid scattered around the road and he was covered in blood once again. Why he even bothered to clean himself up was a question worth asking, this always happened when he fought.

Cassandra and Solas went on to help the villagers who had started to get out from their houses as the danger had passed. Isala and Varric headed to find the chantry mother. They found her speaking to an injured villager who refused accepting healing magic just on the reason that magic was filthy. It made Isala scrunch his nose, he really didn't understand people who couldn't see the use of magic, but he wasn't about to tell this villager what an idiot he was.

The revered mother somehow talked the villager into accepting the help before she turned her attention to Isala and Varric. They had a short conversation about what she thought about this all, suggested them to go to Val Royeaux to speak to the chantry. All he needed to do was to create some doubt and the chantry to disrupt the unity they held against him and the inquisition.

Isala signed a thank you before moving onward. For the rest of the day he found little tasks here and there in need to be done. Stashes of supplies to be found, meat to be hunted, healing herbs to be collected and a bunch of other things that would help people survive. He also tracked down the main templar and the main apostate camps to root them out. They were killing innocent people, from the notes and letters he had found around the place they didn't just kill innocents but did things no person should do to another without consent. 

Doing these little things wasn't only to make Isala feel less guilty over not being at Seheron to help his fellow fog warriors in the fight for the islands freedom. All these little things made people talk, they would move on the rumors that the inquisition was good, helping the people without asking for anything in return, which would make more people friendly against them. 

It was like at Seheron when their little group would  help fend off vints or bandits from smaller unguarded villages, in return they were allowed to trade with them.

When night fell they made camp. Fist thing in the morning would be moving towards Orlais and Val Royeaux. Varric grinned at him where he sat after they had finished dinner, the way the dwarf always seemed to grin when he thought he had something figured about him. Last time Varric had that face he had claimed that Isala was from Rivaini. 

"You are a man, aren't you? I heard your little war cry, that was clearly a male voice." Varric said with triumph.

Isala snorted amused. They hadn't figured that out yet. He'd been with them for over a week and they still  hadn't figured out if he was a man or a woman. He smiled amused at Varric and gave a little nod before he began moving his hands. 

_'That took you a while. But yes, I am a male elf.'_  

"Hah! Seeker, own up. Ten silver." 

"You could have just told us." Cassandra groaned as she pulled up ten silvers and gave them to the dwarf.

_'You were betting on me?'_

"Of course Snapdragon, we have several bets on you in fact."

Isala arched a brow in question even if the amusement was still evident in his face. He wanted to know what more bets was put on him and if he was going to tell them some of his past just to get someone to loose money. Varric laughed lightly and pulled up a little ledger that he kept in a pocket of his leather jacket.

"We have one bet on where you are from, I have ten silver on Rivaini, Seeker and Curly say Nevarra, Red say Seheron and Chuckles refuse to join in the bet. The second is the one I just won, the third about why you can't talk." 

Isala snorted and shook his head in amusement. Just because he was hiding most emotions behind a mask did not mean he did not have them. He liked people, usually. He just took a while to allow people close enough to be friendly and talkative with them. Laying bets and teasing around was something he usually did a lot with his friends. Well something he did a lot before his friends all died. But Varric was someone he was slowly accepting as friendish.

_'Fifteen silvers that I can have Cassandra wear a flower crown for at least an hour.'_

"Oh you are on snapdragon!" 

Turns out he could make Cassandra wear that flower crown. Both her and Solas in fact. He wrote in the dirt in the ground that it was a reconciliation gift and gave his most adorable puppy eyes. Not even Orchid could handle those eyes. The look on both Cassandra's and Solas' faces when they tried hard not to be offended by the flower crowns almost made him break down laughing and admit defeat several times, but in the end, he was ten silvers and one friendship richer. 


	4. 4: Val Royeaux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orlais is just a bundle of fun, especially when someone is blaming you for murder. It's a real party and Varric, Cassandra and Solas learn something new about the silent Herald of Andraste.

**9:41 Dragon -Val Royeaux-**

Orlais was exactly what he had expected it to be, from what he had earlier heard of the city. Golden lion statues, fancy buildings and an excessive amount of the color blue. He had heard his old master talk about this place before, it had been in distaste after some glasses of wine with his fellow magisters of course and thus maybe not the most reliable information. That memory almost forced Isala to appreciate the city out of pure defiance to a dead previous owner. Almost, being a keyword here. This place wasn't his kind of city. He missed the simplicity of Seheron and it's jungles. 

Not that being a fog warrior was always an easy life, it meant constant battles, running in thick fog and surviving out in the nature with nothing than your little group. No one own anything there, no one owned anything in or of the forests, Seheron belonged to itself and they were just living there. Well, asking the Qunari or Tevinter they were still arguing over owning the island, that's why him and the other fog warriors fought them about it.

As they walked into the city from the main road a woman wearing a ridiculous mask gasped and cried out before she set off running. That let out a little chuckle from him, it was like at Seheron aside for that the woman didn't shout _'fog rebel'_ and called for the beresaad.

One of Leliana's agents came over to them as they walked through the gates, she informed them that there were templars already in the city. That people thought that said templars would protect them from the inquisition. Cassandra really seemed annoyed that these people seemed to think they needed to be protection from the inquisition and that the people were foolish for believing such. 

Isala wondered if Cassandra had looked around herself lately. Anyone who lives in a place like this was bound to be foolish. Anyone living in the higher society but not yet the highest ranked person would care very little in finding out what was true or not. Tevinter was the same, every magister would believe the archon if he outright told them that blood was wine and would go out the fields to eat the grass if he told them that the grass was candy. Just to gain some of his favor.

He just shook his head and silently moved forwards when the scout had finished with her report. He straightened out his back and held his head high, he was no one's slave nor was he a servant and he would not be mistaken for one either. Never again would he submit to slavery or servitude. 

He walked towards where he saw a lot of people from the city stand, gathered like cattle, listening to a woman in chantry clothes as she spread her words like saar-quamek spread madness. He walked closer to hear her words better, she spoke of him, how he was a false prophet, a murderer of their beloved divine and many other such lies.

Isala was getting angry and that quick, he would not have his name slandered like this for the chantry to make a profit out of it. He may be a rebel at Seheron but he was a clean rebel, he only killed those who held weapon in hand ready to fight him and his people.

He was about to nudge Varric and sign what he wanted to have said but he was stopped by several southern templars entering the podium. He wondered what slender and lies their order could come up with against him and if there would be a fight. But instead, one of the templars hit the woman across her jaw making her fall to the ground with a pained sound.

Yes, he found the chantry woman annoying at best, but she was toothless. Hitting an unarmed priestess who had no means to defend herself was low, it was low even in Tevinter standards and those bastards would kick a puppy for fits and giggles, at least a puppy could bite back or run fast.

The templar that had stood there while the chantry mother had spouted her convenient lies looked shocked. Isala focused on the templar with dark skin, clearly he thought this was far more extreme than he had expected it to be. The templar who looked to be the oldest, presumably the leader walked up to the dark skinned hesitant templar, as if offering a calming confidence that this was right, but the younger did not seem to take it in at heart. 

"Still yourself. She is beneath us."

The leader spoke with that annoying self righteous voice that people who had placed them self in the top of power spoke. The dark skinned one still looked as if he was struggling with what had happened there. That was good, if he played his cards right, if he played them as Keelah would play them back at Seheron he might actually be able to snatch this templar straight from under the orders nose.

"What the..." Varric quietly mumbled to himself.

"Her claim to authority was in insult. Much like your own." The older man was the leader without a doubt.

"Lord Seeker Lucius, it is imperative we get to..." 

"You will not address me."

"Lord seeker?"

"Creating a heretical movement. Raising up a puppet as Andraste's prophet. You should be ashamed. You should all be ashamed, the templars failed no one when we left the chantry to purge the mages. You are the ones who have failed you who'd-"

"Enough!" Isala let his own voice ring out over the market square, silencing the rant.

"Oh shit." Varric again.

He moved up on the podium in one agile movement and turned to look at the people. He had been here less than an hour and his blood was boiling by this damn city. He wasn't going to listen to this lunacy even one more minute. Even the Qunari was more reasonable than this. He let that guide him, he wasn't a speaker but he could not be silent about this any longer.

"Let those who would destroy us step into the light. The world is tearing itself apart, and you argue over petty things like mages and templars." He said loud and clear. "Yes, the chaos has left its mark upon me. I am hounded for the power I wield!" He held his hand up and let it crackle with energy to point what power he meant. "Men like this man built the Tevinter imperium. Men like this spew their lies and would poison you with it like saar-qamek until you loose your minds. He say you beneath him, how long til he put leashes on you and call you slaves?" 

"How dare you!" The man began but Isala was not finished, just held his hand up to hush him.

"Do not poke the dragon if you are not ready for fire." He hissed warning. "I will not help those who stand in the fire and complain it to be hot! But I will help those who are stuck in the debris. The inquisition need to close the breach and we will not stand for templar lunacy of power. I seek none but aid in what threatens us all. Do with it as you wish!"

"But the divine..." Someone called.

"Is dead, but not by my hand. I lost my own friends, my family in the conclave and I will not stop until I see the breach closed and the person guilty of it brought to justice." He turned and looked at the templar that had been hesitant before. "I look after those who'm are mine, freedom is for everyone, not only those with power."

He jumped down from the podium and began walking. His heart was beating hard and desperate in his chest, his breath was shaky and legs wobbly and it was a wonder he didn't just fall over or throw up. Being in the middle of so many people made him uncomfortable even when he wasn't talking, now was just a nightmare. Both as a former slave and as a fog warrior, he knew much better than to remain in places where people looked at him for too long.

His legs were working on their own wobbly accord, taking him up some stairs and into a garden. He didn't stop until he found a stone bench that he sank down at, allowing his body to sag. His elbows to his knees and head in hands closing his eyes trying to force focus his breathing back to normal. Either he had done something good, or he'd done something indifferent. Or, he had fucked up royally, in that case he had one vial left in the pocket of his new armor, one vial of the fog. He could throw it then run to get to a ship back to Seheron, hope the breach closes itself.

He chuckled darkly to himself, that was not going to happen. He couldn't do it either, even if he'd think the breach could close itself. Orchid, Rowena, Tenek, Septimus and Keelah deserved better than him running because he was scared. Oh how he missed them. Orchid and Keelah were speakers, they would have been able to do something good here, made people listen, made them understand. 

"That was quite the speech my dear." 

He gave up a strangled sound and startled so violently he nearly fell off the bench. He only just covered by diving up on his feet. The voice belonged to a very tall woman, a human woman who shouldn't be so tall. For a second he had almost thought it was Orchid, but this was no kossith, his friend were all still dead. As he looked her over again he realized the height was due to high heels and a tall hat with horns. No wonder he'd thought it was his own horned giant. This woman had dark skin and a confident air around her, reminded him a little about a Tamassran he had once met.

He did his best to come up with a good response but for several seconds more than suitable he just stood there and stared dumbly. She reminded him of a Tamassran which meant Qunari and Qunari always kept him on edge even if this woman also clearly was no Qunari, no Qunari would dress fancy like this woman. As he stood there feeling his ears flatten back slightly over the awkwardness he himself was creating made him want to sink through the ground. Then his brain seemed to kick start itself back up and he straightened out again, giving a little nod.

"Thank you. I do my best though I fear I am no good with speeches." He said and sighed relieved over that he had found his words again.

"That I do not doubt. Your speech could be refined but it got the point out. Allow me to introduce myself, I am lady Vivienne. First enchanter of Montsimmard and enchantress of the imperial court." The woman said introductory. 

"Fancy titles, I'm Isala shadow." He didn't mean it to be rude and he hoped he hadn't seemed too rude saying so.

"Pleased to meet you my dear. Now I did not come here for pleasantries. With Divine Justinia dead, the chantry in shambles. Only the inquisition could return sanity and order to our frightened people." That was so many words, and Isala was still not recovered from his panic that was still clogging up his chest making him lightheaded. "As the leader of the last loyal mages of Thedas, I feel it only right that I lend my assistance to your cause."

Isala blinked, trying to wrap his head around if she had said something hidden within her words that he would regret accepting to later. But, some twisting and twirling what she had said in his head, he found nothing but the will to help. Perhaps his speech hadn't been such a horrible mess as he'd thought then.

"Your help will be appreciated lady Vivienne." He said politely to her. 

"Snapdragon!"

Vivienne arched a brow and Isala turned to look at Varric, Cassandra and Solas who quickly made their way over to them in the little garden. They were followed by the hesitant dark skinned templar, so he had managed to steal one of the templars, that was something good then. 

The three companions had mixtures of surprise, confusion and in Varric's and Solas' cases, amusement coloring their faces. He hoped Cassandra wouldn't be pissed that he'd been silent this whole time when he in fact could talk, he really didn't know if he could handle a pissed off seeker right now without running off.

"So, when were you going to let us all know you can actually talk?" Varric asked with a chuckle.

"I prefer to listen. You all simply assumed I couldn't talk so I didn't see the reason to correct you. I will remain to say nothing if you intend to question me of my past." He said and crossed his arms over his chest. 

That was definitely annoyance flying over Cassandra's face. Vivienne was looking at them interested, of course she nor the templar would know that Isala hadn't spoken to anyone until today and thus didn't entirely understand what was going on here.

"Secretive as ever. Well, seems no one will win the bet on how you lost your voice."

"What's your name? It is impossibly shadow." Cassandra protested.

"Isala Shadow." 

Solas chuckled lightly "in need of shadow?" He asked and Isala looked at him then smiled himself and gave a little nod. Of course Solas would know what his name meant. It could of course also be, Issala, which meant dust in Qunlat, depending on how it was said.

"Yes. It was suggested by a friend. But we should move on. I want to get out of this city, people are staring more at me than the vints would if the arishok stepped into Minrathous wearing pink laces and handing them over Par Vollen."

"What!" Varric broke out laughing loudly over the mental picture he had just been provided and Isala flushed. This was why he wasn't supposed to talk, things came too close to home.

"After that speech you just made. You put the templars to shame. People are bound to stare." The templar said, trying not to stare.

Vivienne looked as if she was about to retract her offer of helping but instead settled in only making the same disapproving face as Cassandra did. When they left the gardens there was no way out of the stares from the people there. He wished he had his old equipment back so he could cover his head under a deep hood to keep himself anonymous.


	5. 5: The storm coast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isala meets with The Iron Bull.

**9:36: Dragon -Seheron-**

"Ataashi. Give me the spindleweed?" The female horned giant asked.

Orchid was currently making them more vials of the fog they used. It was a touch of alchemy, a little sap of magic and they were able to put an entire block in a city in a thick white fog. Not all groups had a mage at their disposal of course and it wasn't strictly necessary with magic to make the mixtures. However magic did improve the mixture, making it last longer and feel thicker when breathed in by others. They had only one mage in their group but orchid was an excellent ex-saarebas.

However when she spoke Isala rolled his eyes at her, she and Tenek always called him Ataashi, glorious one, it was what the Qunari called dragons. He knew why of course, he'd been told that he smelled like a dragon and he hadn't been surprised. It was in his blood, coiling burning making itself known at the worst possible times.

"Will you ever stop calling me that you heathen ox-woman? I am not a dragon." He huffed at her.

Orchid laughed at him where she sat working on cutting down herbs to the mixture. Rowena snorted from her spot where she sat sharpening her blade. The dwarf had a sword that was ridiculously large for her, but she swung it deadly as any warrior would. Septimus was laying with his head in Keelah's lap while she was telling him the old tales of the fog warriors but they both looked up amused when the dragon conversation came up again. All in their group always found it funnier to listen to the two horned giants of the group go on about Isala's dragon-like smell, not that anyone else could feel it though.

The other huge horned person dropped down behind him, dropped his head heavily on Isala's shoulder, a horn stroking against the black dreadlocks. It was lucky that Isala wasn't weak or he'd probably double over by the sudden extra weight on his shoulder. Tenek grinned and took a deep breath by the junction of his shoulder and neck humming contently.

"You smell like a dragon, that is why you are and will always be our Ataashi." Tenek hummed happily against his skin.

"Stop sniffing me you craz-aahhh!"

Tenek had pulled him up in his lap before he had time to finish that sentence and the horned warrior wrapped his arms snugly around his smaller elven frame while continuing to sniff his neck. Isala tried to squirm free, in vain of course, if one ever find themselves in the lap of a horned giant with arms wrapped around their torso, there simply wasn't a get away.

The others laughed and Isala tried hard not to laugh as well but it was impossible. Soon he was laughing loudly while Tenek had began to merciless tickle his sides with one hand while the other still held him close. 

This was usual for them, the two horned sibling sniffing him or pulling him close for another whiff. He rather liked the attention from them even if he would curse and squirm around a little, just to keep up appearances. Rowena, Keelah and Septimus loved to tease them about this behavior at all times, all in good spirit and it always ended up in laughter of course.

"Ouch! Big savage, don't bite me. You people have really pointy teeth!" He half complained over the little nibble Tenek provided his shoulder.

"And big cocks, interested?" Tenek replied and buckled his hips up tempting against his ass as if to show just exactly how big he was, as if Isala didn't already know that.

Iasala could feel the by the large bulge in the Tenek's leather breeches, that he indeed was hard and ready for other things than just sitting around. Tenek almost always got horny by smelling him for longer than a couple of minutes. It would be a filthy lie if Isala himself said he wasn't interested by the erection pressing up against his ass, because he really was. But he liked to pretend he was at least a little hard to get.

"I... could possibly be swayed, what do you have to bargain with?" He purred. 

"Oh, I've got a new oil, merchant said it had a burning sensation, a good one mind you, gonna chase your orgasm but stop you from coming until I'm done with you."

Isala felt his mouth warer and he licked his lips, eyes widening slightly. He knew his ears had turned a soft shade of pink and was vibrating slightly in anticipation. Oh hell, he'd be easy to catch, Tenek's oil sounded real good and he wanted it inside of him, badly.

"Tenek, if you break Ataashi you better find us another dragon smelling elf." Orchid warned as she usually did when Tenek said something like that. 

"How do you even fit that monstrosity you call dick in Shadow? He is just skin, bones and pretty dreads." Septimus said and snorted "You'd never get that thing into me I tell you that much, I'd probably split in half and Shadow is smaller than me!" 

"Oh but I am flexible, I didn't break last time!" Isala protested with a laugh.

Tenek laughed lightly and licked a stripe along his pointed ear causing Isala to twist and squirm tying to escape again while laughing. This was all fun and games, well, sex was all fun and games too, Tenek and him weren't in a relationship but they both enjoyed sex and enjoyed each other. Tenek loved the scent of dragon on him and Isala loved the size of Tenek as he filled him up in the most delicious way possible.

"Last time you had to drink three health potions before you could even stand up." Orchid pointed out.

Rowena broke out in laughter again over the memory and the others joined. He groaned loudly and buried his head deep against Tenek's neck. Ugh, it was true, he had been so sore he couldn't stand, even less sit and had been forced to stay on his stomach half a day while Orchid made him a couple of health potions, refusing to use her healing magic, saying that it was a lesson not to let Tenek go too hard on him. 

But he would lie if he claimed it wasn't worth it though. Tenek was always worth it according to him.

* * *

**9:41 Dragon. -storm coast-**

The storm coast, or _'the most rainy and depressing place Isala had seen'_ coast was a place Isala would have survived not visiting. The rain was whipping their faces, biting into their armors and weapons, clawing salty at their leathers. It really was the most depressing place he had ever seen outside Tevinter and Par Vollen, both those places had a couple of depressing places he rather entirely forget about.

They were here at this godforsaken place because a mercenary group had shown interest in the inquisition. A man, Krem had told them that Iron Bull, the leader had some information, free of charge. Also that they could see them fight, see if they were worth hiring. Krem had seemed a decent enough man, the slight accent, all to familiar was Tevene, but clearly Krem was no mage, Krem more likely would have been almost as low ranked as himself had been and could be trusted not to lead him to an ambush.

However when Krem had told him that Iron Bull was a Qunari he almost refused then and there. He wanted nothing to do with Qunari. On principle fog warriors and Qunari didn't mix well. But then he had thought about it, maybe that Krem just meant the race and not a Qunari from the Qun. That would make sense since he said he was a mercenary, Qunari didn't have mercenaries, they had soldiers who fought in their armies and they certainly didn't make up little mercenary groups.

Isala decided that this Qunari could be a Tal-Vashoth. Not that he was very fond of the Tal-Vashoth either, most times the Vashoth would attack him and his group on taught principle, leaving the Qun didn't always mean leaving the orders behind. But some of the Tal-Vashoth could be swayed to fight for freedom, both Orchid and Tenek had once been Qunari and Vashoth before they were fog warriors. 

As they walked down the path to the beach the mercenary group was already fighting the vints. Isala stopped Cassandra from rushing in by rising his hand over her chest and shake his head. It wasn't out of cruelty that he didn't engage the fight, this Iron Bull was from Seheron or Par Vollen. This was how things worked there and even in Tevinter. It would be deemed rude for them to interfere in a fight where someone was to prove their skill. It might even provoke an attack on themselves afterwards.

"We are here to see if they are worth hiring, if they cannot hold a small group of vints we have no interest in them." 

Isala leaned to a rock to watch. He held his hands securely on his blades in case the fight would go badly and help would be needed but didn't move into the fight. He payed closest attention to the Qunari, he was the potential threat and Isala was looking for weaknesses. Iron Bull was carrying a huge ax that swung in calculated movements. One eye was hidden under an eye patch, which meant he'd have a blind spot to his left, he didn't use his leg the way he should either, knee problems then, he could use that too. There was scars pretty much everywhere on the warrior along with an impressive rack of horns.

He made an involuntary little squeak seeing the horns, horns always poked his interest, there was something very dragony about them. He groaned over himself and shifted his arms to cross them tightly over his chest in defense from himself. Damn horned giants and their resemblances to dragons. Something deep in him stirred to be let out but he pressed the feeling away forcefully, this wasn't Tenek. 

The supposed to be Qunari was constantly keeping track of his men, often threw himself in between a blow and his men to take the blunt of an attack that would have proved fatal on anything smaller than a Qunari.

What role this man might have if he was in the Qun was a bit uncertain for him, usually Isala could pinpoint them rather easily. But this man was too soft for a Sten or a Beresaad, too caring of the people around him. He doubted Avaarad, there was none of the mage binding tools on him. Ben-Hassrath was possible, not an re-educator though, possibly Hissrad or Salit. He knew for certain this man was not Tallis, he didn't have the grace of an assassin and mostly Tallis was given to elves or humans who were good at blending in. 

The large ax lodged itself in the last of the vints, severing half of the head from the rest of the body, and the battle was over. The chargers went on to check the corpses on the leaders command and Isala walked over towards the Qunari, avoiding the corpses as he made his way through the fight scene to the the Qunari. 

"So, you're with the inquisition huh, glad you could make it. Come on, have a seat. Drinks are coming."

He really didn't sound stern as the usual Ben-Hassrath, perhaps he had been mistaken, perhaps this man was Tal-Vashoth after all. 

"The Iron bull I assume? I hear you are looking for work." Isala schooled all his tense features to an emotionless mask.

"Horns gave it away huh? Yes I am, not before my drink though."

The man sat heavily on a rock and Isala sat on one opposite of him, his legs spread wide, one elbow leaned to his own knee. He knew that even if he was keeping a mask free of emotions his ears would give away his tension and uneasiness he felt. At least if this Qunari was actually a Ben-Hassrath.

"So, you've seen us fight, we're expensive but we're worth it, and I'm sure the inquisition can afford us." Iron Bull said with a little chuckle.

"I already have good people. Why do I need you?" He asked calmly forcing himself not to look in the ground or at the other's chest while talking.

"You're not just getting the boys, you're get me. You need a front line bodyguard, I'm your man, whatever it is, demons, dragons, the bigger the better. There is one more thing though, might be useful, might piss you off-" Bull stood up as he spoke taking some steps then looked at him again.

"That you are a Ben-Hassrath. Salit or Hissrad." Isala said looking at him questioning.

"Err... yes, Hissrad. Ah, so that is why you are so tense, had dealings with the Qun in the past?"

Isala stood up and began pacing a small distance back and forth. He needed to do something with himself or he'd start running until he found a ship back to Seheron and never looked back. A Ben-Hassrath, a Qunari Hissrad right there, what was even the odds? The question, hit too close to home, he didn't want to answer it. 

"I take it you would want to send reports back to Par Vollen?" He said pushing the question aside.

"Yes, but I also get reports from Ben-Hassrath agents all over Orlais. You sign me on, and I'll share them with your people." 

Isala pulled a hand over his face  then continued his pacing. A ben-hassrath, he remembered those months in a cold dungeon, he remembered it too well even if he wished he could forget.

But Qunari were effective on the battlefield, they were large, knew how to swing a weapon and was very resistant to damage and he had seen Iron Bull fight, he was skilled without a doubt. The inquisition needed good warriors, he had seen the poor excuse of an army they had. Cullen and Cassandra were doing their best to teach them to be better, but the Chargers would bolster their numbers perfectly. He had to look at the large picture there, not just his own personal dislike for the Qunari, besides, this man didn't know what or who Isala was.

"Your reports... I would be appreciating if they contained no information of my appearances, whatever you find out about my past or my name. The less the Qunari knows of me the less trouble will I be if I ever want to visit Seheron. Leliana would want to see through all reports and I would as well before them being sent away."

No reason to be rude or spiteful towards this man who offered his help. Granted it was for money but it was still help. Isala knew to take allies where they could be found, Qunari, Tal-Vasoth, humans, other elves, dwarves, mages, non mages, wherever there was people who wanted to help. 

"Sounds good."

He must have been more distracted than he'd thought because he hadn't noticed the Qunari move closer until large hands settled on his shoulders stopping his stressed pacing. Isala flinched, nearly jumped back but instead looked up standing tense and ready to escape any moment. As he looked up at the Qunari he saw the usual widening of eyes and he had interest written all over his face, interest and surprise.

"You might not want to breath too much around me, I have heard I smell rather good to horned giants." He mumbled and carefully shifted away from the Qunari's hands that was still resting on his shoulders. 

"I suspect there is a story behind that." Iron Bull said, shaking his head most likely to free himself from the scent of dragon that was Isala.

"Yes. And no, I will not tell it. Now if you excuse me, I have to challenge the leader of the blades of Hessarian on a duel."

"You can find us back at Haven when you need us." 

They parted ways and Isala tried to grasp all the million things flying around his head but the only thing staying put was the sense of worry about having a Qunari spy so close to where he spent a lot of time.


	6. 6: Redcliffe, part one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Camping and Redcliffe. Isala meets some people he didn't think he'd ever meet again.

**9:41 Dragon  -The hinterlands-**

The campfire was crackling joyfully in the cooling night air. They had made camp not far from the waterfalls up the hill over the valley where the kings road crossed. A couple of weeks earlier that valley had been full of the sounds of battle raging between mages and templars. Or anyone who was unfortunate enough to cross the valley for that matter.

Now all they could hear from their camping site was the faint sound of the water from the fall rushing down over rocks to the lower pond, the merry crackling from their fire and Varric's voice as he was currently telling some incredible story about some carta members he had done business with once.

Isala sat with a makeshift cutting board of a flat rock, his obsidian dagger cutting deathroot quick and practiced. A medium sized iron pot was boiling with something greenish on his edge of the fire, giving of a sweet inviting scent, like of Raspberries. Tenek had taught him how to make this poison once, and by the look of it Bull had already guessed what it was, even if the Qunari hadn't asked how he knew how to do it.

That was something nice about Bull, he never asked. Well, he had asked the first days but Isala had locked down, as he did when anyone asked him about his past so the Qunari had stopped asking. It was nice, but he had a feeling that Bull was trying to silently figure him out though. Some days, he wished the large creature would figure him out, it was hard to keep a conversation with anyone without betraying where he was from and how he had lived. Other days he was grateful, didn't want people to know anything about him.  

This though, the campfire, stories, friends laughing and joking about. It was all so painfully familiar to him, all missing was for a brutish ox-man to pull him up his lap and sniff his hair while purring dirty little things in his ears and the sound of the Seheron jungle. The familiarity of it all was painful, to think of what he had once had and now could never return to.

He could return to Seheron of course, meet up with a new group. The fog warriors always were open for more fighters in their midst, but it wouldn't be the same. It would never make up for the family had had lost in the conclave. The only comfort he had now was the new people he had began to find.

Cassandra, the human warrior who secretly ready smutty novels. He hadn't said anything to her about it, but he had seen her at times with one of the books. Solas, the mage who never seemed to get bored about the fade and his dreaming. Varric, the storytelling dwarf who fondled his crossbow in private, or so he guessed. Sera, the crazy rouge and all her pranks. Vivienne with her impressive skills on keeping her calm at any given point. Then Bull, the strange Qunari that seemed to know everything about everyone even if he hadn't been around for very long. 

But he had began to count these people as _his_  people, his kith as Orchid would have said it, his squad. He was still a bit uneasy around Bull though, being a Qunari and a Ben-Hassrath was something that was intimidating because of his past. And Blackwall had only just joined them earlier today. As they had made their way through the Hinterlands to Redcliffe they had passed by the warden as Leliana had asked him to and he had joined them to fight against demons and the breach.

Bull had been with them for about two weeks now, helping with all the little tasks and requests that were found pretty much all around them, they had cleared out the demon who made the wolves go rabid, drove out bandits from the fortress up the hills, closed several rifts and a bunch of other trivial tasks that helped the people to think good things about the inquisition. 

As of now they were making their way towards Redcliffe. Or rather they had made camp and would proceed to Redcliffe in the morning. Fiona had offered them to come and speak to her about the rebellion helping them with the breach and it'd be sheer stupidity not to listen to an invitation like that. Even if Cullen had been reluctant on the matter. He thought it'd be better to try to find the loyal templars.

However Isala had been royally pissed off by Seeker Lucius and his templars. He had managed to steal ser Barris right from under Lucius nose, Ser Barris had sent a secret letter to the loyal templars and six more had joined them at Haven. They weren't many but any soldier in this moment were worth their weight in gold. Isala had put them to help Cullen and Cassandra to teach the recruits, the more teachers the more taught.

Varric finished is tale, which pulled Isala out of his thoughts and look at the others smiling slightly. Cassandra scoffed but did a poor job in hiding the amused smirk she had on her face. Sera, Bull and Blackwall broke out in loud rowdy laughter while Vivienne scrunched her nose. Isala snickered amused and slid the crushed deathroot down in the mix and stirred it.

"So, snapdragon what exactly are you up to there? It smells really good." Varric said curiously as he eyed the green mixture. 

Sera leaned against his back her lady parts resting against the back of his head and he rolled his eyes but didn't scoot her away. He was more into men, and large men. Besides, he was fairly certain Sera was into women. He quickly stopped Sera from dipping her fingers in it for a taste.

"It's a poison for my daggers, makes people start hallucinating and hitting the wrong targets." He said with a fond little smile and let Sera's hands go.

It was almost the Qunari Saar-qamek but not entirely. This drove people to hallucinate and to confusion, but only for a short period of time. To work, it needed to be swallowed or introduced to the bloodstream somehow. Dipping one's hands in it wouldn't harm unless there was any cuts on them. Depending on how much swallowed it could be an aphrodisiac. But he wasn't entirely certain Sera wouldn't just have dipped her hand and licked it so he had figured stopping her was for the best. 

"Remind me never to piss you off." Varric muttered.

"Does it have to smell like candy?" Sera complained loudly.

"Some people use it as an aphrodisiacs, one drop on the tongue will make things comfortably inviting, it smells good because I happen to like good smelling things." He said and chuckled lightly. "Don't swallow too much though, then shit will go real weird.

"You tried this I take it?" Blackwall said looking interested at the green mixture.

"I had a friend who introduced it to me. Gave me too much the first time. Instead of a nigh full of pleasure, I threw up all over camp, frightened of every shadow or sound lurking in the dark, which I cannot say is ideal in the deep forest nights." He said with a shiver shaking his head over the memory.

"That, sounds incredibly Orlesian, they drink Wyvern blood like wine, pays good money for it too." Varric said and laughed shaking his head. "I am starting to believe snapdragon maybe is Orlesian and not Rivaini. Come on tell us so I can win some money here." 

"I think he's Antivan, look at his skin." Sera said laughing and pinched his cheeks. Isala snapped after her fingers playfully but only delivered a tiny kiss when he actually made contact having the other elf laugh madly and flop down beside him.  

"We betting on where he is from?" Bull asked curiously, 

"Yeah he won't tell us." 

"Put me up for fifteen on Seheron." 

"You too? Red think he's from there too. I still say Rivaini but lived a while in Orlais." Varric said and wrote Bull down in his ledger. 

He also wrote in Blackwall who took a guess on Antiva and Sera said 'here and there wierdface.' Then decided to go on Orlais. Scout Hardin who had just joined them added another five silver on Rivaini. 

Isala laughed lightly and shook his head amused, some people might be annoyed there was bets on him but he actually quite liked to hear why they thought he was from all those places. Maybe he'd tell them some day, but not today. Bull, didn't need to know he was from Seheron, he'd probably figure out that Isala was a fog warrior sooner or later and Isala preferred later when he wasn't concerned that Bull might try to kill him for it. 

They kept telling jokes an stories, several more attempts from Varric in making up a believable backstory. Both Sera and Harding helped him (unsuccessfully) and everyone was pretty sure Isala wasn't a lost prince from some far off country.  While he listened to them he coated Sera's arrows, his own knife and some of Varric's bolts in the poison he had made. Then poured the rest of the mixture into little vials and stashed them on his body in his armor and gave the rest to Sera who seemed delighted over the ' _gift'._  He warned her not to lick her arrows a third time then retreated to the tent he shared with her. 

They all had to share tents out of practicality not having to carry and put up one tent each. Isala happened to be the only person besides Varric that could share a tent with Sera without waking up with a paint on mustache or just one eyebrow. The rouge had done a prank against him once, put grasshoppers in his bedroll and he had retaliated by dying her, all of her blue with a mixture of berries in her bath.

They had saluted each other as fellow pranksters then decided on a truce and instead pranked the people at Haven, together. He really did love Sera, like one would love a crazy younger sister and he liked to have her around, she and Varric were the two he counted most as family.

* * *

**9:41 Dragon -Redcliffe-**

As they walked in through the gates of Redcliffe Isala was feeling more and more on edge. There was something not right here but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was that made him feel that way, and that worried him more than anything else. It wasn't just the strange rift that had worked unlike any other rift they had stumbled upon, it was something with the people around this village that put him off.

He was glad he had brought both Bull and Cassandra with him. Two warriors were perfect if they would have to pummel their way out of the village. Varric was his second pair of eyes, a rouge like himself looking the directions him and Bull hadn't covered. He also had brought Vivienne, she had known Fiona, maybe not as friends but they had known each other and that was enough. Now he was grateful because he was rather certain Vivienne would be able to see if Fiona was acting strange, out of the usual. 

He made his way to the tavern where he had been told that Fiona would be. On the way there he had seen seven or eight humans with robes that had a clear resemblance to the Tevinter circle robes and his skin was crawling. Luckily, Qunari was known for their ability to fight vints, and so was fog warriors, in a pinch, they could get out from this place by using his last vial of fog. He really needed to get the things to make more, maybe Varric could have them ordered without too many questions asked. 

Fiona was chatting to another mage as they walked into the tavern. But as soon as she saw them (and who can miss a huge Qunari?) She looked at them with surprise in her face. As if she hadn't ever seen them before and certainly not expecting them to come there. The tingling tugging warning of wrong was increasing in his chest, suggesting him to leave before it was too late, but he scooted it aside. They were there for a reason, he couldn't just run away from that. 

"Welcome, agents of the inquisition, what brings you here?" The elven woman asked as she looked at them curiously.

"You asked us to come here when we met in Val Royeaux." Isala reminded and crossed his arms tightly over his chest.

"I haven't been in Val Royeaux since before the conclave."

Fiona looked genuinely confused over this new information she was handed and Isala arched a brow. Something was up and every second that something was getting weirder he felt less at ease. He could tell that Fiona wasn't lying about not knowing that she had spoken to him, it was in her face that she wasn't lying, that the confusion was real.

"Well, unless you have an identical twin..." 

"I suppose it could be magic at hand... whatever the reason, things have changed. The free mages have... pledged themselves to the Tevinter imperium." 

"This right here is why you can't trust mages." Bull said almost growling.

"Fiona my dear, your dementia is showing." Vivienne said almost kindly. 

"Shit, I can't think up one worse thing she could have said..." Varric mumbled.

Isala just stared deadpanned at her before anger began coiling in him like an eternal fire ready to put everything in the room ablaze. The imperium. Of course, that's why things felt wrong. What's next? The Qunari helping the templars to attack the mages?

"You are an elf!" He snapped with a snarl. "What the hell do you think Tevinter have to offer an elf? What do you think they do with their elves? If you won't find yourself bought by the next auction you will be sold to the brothel. Your elven charges, all whores, slaves or blood sacrifices. From the age of six and up, broken beyond repair, no care if they are mages or not, they will no longer be people, they will be belongings worth less than nugshit."

They all stared at him, people around them twisting to hear what was said, especially another elf looked concerned. Isala felt his entire being burning by rage, or despair. He just wanted to say, ' _fuck this shit'_ and go, leave these people to their stupidity before he was drawn back into it. Before he was drawn back to Tevinter in chains. Whatever he did, he never could escape from Tevinter it seemed. The door swung open before Fiona could reply to his little outburst. 

"Welcome my friends, I apologize I could not... greet you earlier..." 

Isala knew this man and he took a quick step back, standing in close proximity of the Qunari. He didn't expect to see a magister from his past there. Alexius, a magister his old master once had both known and been friends with, a magister who had helped his old master in his research or dodged theories about dragons with.

It all came suddenly rushing back, the life of training of how to be a submissive good slave. Fear clutched it's slimy claws around him, pierced his chest with raw naked dread. He quickly lowered his head and looked at the floor, lowered his shoulders slightly to not be mistaken for dominant.

"Ah... Pulchra was it? magister Tarsicius lost property." The magister said stiffly. 

"Yes magister Alexius." He said and bowed his head loyally, mind blank only knowing how to follow without asking and never say no.

He felt Bull's hand carefully against his back. That brought him back. What was he even doing? His old master was dead, by his own hand nonetheless, he had slit Tarsicius' throat and seen the blood paint the streets of Seheron. He owed Alexius no loyalties, as he owed no magisters any loyalties. If this man would attack him, he'd fight back and he knew that at least the Qunari who still had a hand to his back would stand by his side. He rose his head with a defiant glare and straightened back out.

"Times changed, Tarsicius is dead. My name is Shadow now, and I belong to no one but myself. Now, I am not here to catch up on the latest Tevinter gossip. I need mages for the breach and you just happen to be an unfortunate middle hand in me gaining them." He said collected, his face schooled back neutral not to reveal the slight fear still clutching at his heels.

"Come, let us discuss the terms." Alexius motioned to a chair and Isala sat down, leaned back on it with his legs spread out, just to show how little respect he had for the magister.

Bull's presence obviously helped. He would perhaps have preferred Tenek and Orchid to stand there by his side, but Bull worked as well. When he had moved to sit the Qunari had followed to stand like a body guard behind his chair. It was a bit like Tenek actually, only Tenek would have shoved a poisoned dagger halfway through the table and threatened to put the magister on a leash then kill him if he so much as looked funny in Isala's direction, a possessive warning for others to keep away from his dragon elf. 

He wondered if it was a treat from the race to be like that, or if it was the scent of dragon in himself that pulled out this behavior from the horned large people. Because Bull was glaring down at Alexius much in the same manner Orchid had once stared down at a human that had subtly threatened the elf. Whatever it was, and however he should feel about the horned giants being possessive about him, all he felt was safe. If something happened he was sure Bull would keep him protected. 

An odd thought since Bull was a Qunari, a Ben-Hassrath, and Isala had very bad memories of the Ben-Hassrath. But this one, felt safe and gave him the confidence needed to speak to the magister without pulling back in his old taught behavior of a slave. 

"Felix, send for a scribe will you, ah how impolite of me, Do you remember my son Felix?"

"I do, a bright light in an imperium covered of blood. Nice to see you again Felix." He said and offered a smile to the younger mage.

"As you. It has been very long. I trust all is well?"

"My hand has been turned into a nigh light but else, I am reasonably fine."

Felix chuckled lightly over the remark of his hand being a night light and Isala grinned toothy at him, flashing the pointy tips of his sharp teeth. Alexius looked less than amused over how his son was interacting with a lowly elf. Isala enjoyed the annoyance in Alexius, cherished in it more than he probably should but couldn't resist it.

"Felix, would you be so kind as to get us that scribe before your father combust into flames? It would make a dreadful scorch mark on this... lovely... table."

"Of course, it was good to see you again."

Felix left and Isala smirked as he looked back at Alexius. When his former master had spent time with Alexius researching dragons or just had wine Felix had been kind to him. The young mage had talked to him, brought him little sweets and treats. He had inspired Isala to run, to leave Tevinter and Isala had no bad memories of the younger Alexius.

Gereon however... that was another thing, he wasn't as bad as his old master had been, but he was still a magister and had acted accordingly to an elven slave. Not that he had understood that it had been wrong back then, but he knew it now.

"So, Alexius. Mages, I need them for the breach." He said businesslike and turned his gaze back at the older mage.

"Ah yes, one never knows how many mages would be required in such an endeavor."

"Yes, and I want enough not to end up on my ass if shit goes wild."

"There will simply have to be-"

The door opened again and Felix staggered inside clutching to himself, limping as if he was injured. Isala flew up from his chair and caught Felix when he staggered closer to him. Alexius had jumped up too from his own chair, concern was written everywhere in his face. Isala was rather certain that concern was mirrored in his own face.

"I'm sorry... I just..." Felix smiled bashfully. "I don't want to concern anyone."

Isala felt the note of paper pressed into his hand and forced away the amusement that threatened to break out on his face. This had happened once or twice before, Felix had stumbled over him just before him and his old master was to leave and a last cookie had been pressed in his hand for him to hide and eat at a later occasion. 

"It's no worry." He said and smiled friendly, helping him back up standing. 

"Felix... come, let us get your powders. This meeting will have to adjourn to another occasion, I will send the inquisition word. Fiona, come I need your assistance by the Castle."

Isala looked after them as they left and looked down in his hand. It was a note, a hastily scribbled note with Felix's hand writing. Of course back in Tevinter it had just been squiggles that he couldn't read but now he could make out the message clear as day. 

"Come to the Chantry, you are in danger."


	7. 7: Redcliffe part two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second part of the Redcliffe adventure, and meeting Dorian!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is a bit slow, the real interesting stuff will begin when they arrive at Skyhold which should happen any chapter now!

**9:27 Dragon -Minrathous-**

The podium that the black haired beauty of an elf stood on looked more of a stage for a dancer than the podium displaying a slave to be sold. Perhaps it even was for dancers on other evenings, it would be enough room on top of it for a single dancer to preform he supposed. But Pulchra wasn't sure, he hadn't been in a place like this before and he wasn't a dancer.

The usual slave auctions were held in hovels by the docs so the slavers wouldn't have to drag their goods too far from their ships. And had this been an usual slave auction he'd just have his hands smacked in iron and a bucket of cold water thrown at him for cleanup then dressed in the usual slave garb. However when his old master had been killed and the imperial written official slavers had found him they had realized his beauty and what worth he had.

That's why this room was no dirty hovel, it was a grand ballroom, well lit and beautifully furnished. The buzzing of life from the chitter chatter of magisters, glasses clinking and laughter was telling that this really was not just the common slave auctions, this was for the higher ranked society. Everyone in the room were dressed as if this was another large event or party. He wasn't entirely certain though because magisters tended to enjoy dressing up even if it wasn't an occasion that called for fancy clothes.

He himself was dressed in nothing but tight leather leggings, clinging to every shape and muscle of his legs. His ears wore lots of golden jewelries, too much, and they were weighing down just slightly. The woman who had put them in had told her associate it was to make the ears more visible sticking out from under the jet black silky hair. Before he got dressed and prettied up he had been neatly washed and scrubbed from top to toe, in a bathtub, with warm water. So he was now free of all dirt his body might have been exposed to in the past.

To be honest it felt strange. At fist his skin had been stinging by the heat of the water, then stinging and aching as it was scrubbed into an angry red. Now it was just very, very clean. Possibly cleaner than it had ever been before and he wasn't certain what he was supposed to think about it, now he'd probably miss being clean when he returned to his everyday cleanup, by the help of oils and, or, tiny wash basins.

When he was finally clean, dressed in the leggings and the gold painted rings and clasps put on his ears, his chest was neatly and skillfully painted and shaded with different gold colors. It was to accent his dark skin and define his muscles so they looked more impressive and desirable. His clear indigo blue eyes were accented by black and gold makeup and his jet black long silky hair had three intricate braids it to keep it out of his face, tied back with a silver string over the rest of the hair. 

Around his neck a golden collar was cooling down his skin, ready for the leach to be attached. Who'm ever would purchase him would also be the one to leash him like the slave he was. It wasn't unusual and Pulchra had worn a collar many times before when it had been on his masters whim. It was to mock Qunari costumes. The way the Qunari leashed their mages, the same way the magisters would leash their slaves.

The servant who had washed, dressed and painted him up had given strict directions that he wasn't allowed to touch himself. His hands was to be kept from the paintwork, the jewelries or anything that he could be messed up. If he did touch himself anyway she'd set him on fire. He didn't doubt her when she said she would, so even when it itched he kept his hands clear from anything that was part of himself. 

The last two years or so he had grown into something beautiful. His feminine touch and defined features often made people have a hard time decide his gender. Apparently, the magisters liked that about him. He knew why, of course he knew why. If taken from behind with his flowing silky hair falling in his face he could be taken for a female elf. A female that couldn't be pregnant no matter how many loads delivered to him.

So, here he was at the higher society slave trade, hoping someone would want to buy him. Being sold here meant that he was worth a lot of coin, which in turn meant it was less likely that his new master would kill him for his blood. The magisters didn't kill expensive slaves for blood magic, they went to the low-market slavers and bought one there for cheap coin.

He smiled for the magisters approaching his little podium, twirled whenever they asked him to, leaned down and bashed his eyelashes for them and told them his skill set. The servant that had cleaned and painted him had taught him a couple of tricks to get sold and he was using them as best as he could. Bashing his lashes to seem as sweet, innocent and untouched as he possibly could.

Had he been any normal boy he would have been innocent. As innocent as fourteen year old boys could be. But he wasn't a normal boy. He was a slave and he didn't even know his age. For the rest of the world the slave boy had stopped being a child when his beauty had struck him. Then he had become a man. Since no one really cared about the slaves and their age this sort of thing was more common than not, by the time they looked old enough they were decided adults. 

One man with shoulder length brown hair stopped by his podium and Pulchra quickly but highly gracious slid down to his knees and looked somewhere by the man's chin. He wasn't allowed to make eye contact with his betters and going against what he was allowed wouldn't get him sold anytime soon.

"What is your name?" The magister had a rather nice voice. Not too sharp or menacing.

"Pulchra, ser." He said and bowed his head softly in respect, some of the jet black hair fell over his gold painted shoulder. 

"A fitting name for such a beautiful specimen. What are your talents beyond your beauty?"

"My previous owner had me taught to wield daggers at his disposal. I can cook, clean, arrange books by size or first letter, care-taking of any level and follow orders. I speak Tevene, Antivan, Rivaini and the common tongue fluent, ser." He listed off hoping he hadn't forgotten anything important. 

"My, my, that is quite the list."

The man seemed interested, Pulchra noted how the magister was eyeing his gold painted chest. He carefully leaned to his right hand, placing it between his legs in an almost feline way as he leaned slightly towards the magister. It was time to reel this in, what had the woman told him about magisters that showed interest in his body...? He smiled bashfully and leaned even closer to the edge as if to whisper a secret even if he couldn't lean far outside the podium or he would get caught in an electrical glyph hiding on the floor. 

The man just looked amused but leaned in playing along for now. Pulchra placed a soft little kiss to his cheek and brushed his own cheek against the human's giving off a soft little content purring sound before he pulled back with a look of pure innocence as if he'd never kissed anyone on the cheek before and that this was the extent of his knowledge. 

"Pulchra." The magister said slowly as if trying the name out.

The trick was to suggest that he would be worth every copper but not to give anything real until bought. He noted the slight dilation to the magisters eyes, his otherwise neutral expression had just the slightest crook to the human's lips that told him he had won the humans interests. If there was no one more interesting there today, he would be sold tonight. 

* * *

 

 

  **9:41 Dragon -Redcliffe-**

"So, a trap?" 

Varric asked as they made their way towards the chantry. Neither of his companions had brought up what without a doubt would come up at a later point, if he was lucky they would wait until they were back in Haven so he could find a spot to hide away from their questions. The questions about his previous life, the slavery, Tevinter, how he knew Felix and Alexius. Those were all sore subjects and he'd prefer not to be questioned about and had absolutely no intent on answering them.

"No, this is no trap. Felix was always a good man, used to sneak me cookies when I was younger." 

When he was a slave, when he had no idea of how old he had been. He knew now, he remembered his mother telling him once before they took him away from her. His mother had told him the year he had been born and he had carried it with him as a treasured memory. Strange how the year had stayed in his minds but not his own name. But maybe it was because the magisters had taken the name from him, forced him into a new one. No one had ever taken his year from him.

"I know we are avoiding it but... how do you know him exactly?" Varric asked.

The only reason Isala didn't lash out or run was because he had gotten to know Varric during their weeks together. He knew the dwarf cared about the people that had come to be their little inner circle. Knew that Varric always were concerned about people's mental states even if he didn't show it straight out at all times. Mostly he joked it away but it was there, hiding in his eyes.

Isala sighed deeply and stopped walking, instead he turned to face Varric straight on. "Alexius was a friend of my old master, they studied dragons together. My master had no need of me while they did this but since I was carrying his books and often his staff he brought me there every time. Felix used to talk to me, like a person, he got me lunch or sweets. He was kind to me and he didn't have to be, he risked a lot in the act doing so. He inspired me to wish for something more, to wish for freedom. He helped me to understand that I didn't love the man who owned me."

"How did you escape?" Bull asked calmly.

Isala wondered if the Qunari had noted the pain in his voice and pushed the subject another direction or if he was just curious. Whatever it was, Isala was fucking grateful. His escape was a better memory than his thought up love for his old master. Not that the escape had resulted in something much better, in fact the escape had resulted in the two worst years of his life.

"We were at Seheron, going to take a ship back to Tevinter when the fog rolled in. I grabbed a knife, slit his throat when he didn't have his eyes on me. Then I killed his guards and watched them bleed out on the ground. I would prefer not to talk about it."

Talking about it made him remember and he really didn't feel like remembering right now, or anytime really. It didn't just bring up the bad memories of what had happened, it also made him miss his family that laid dead up by the conclave. Bodies so burned they could no longer be recognized and given a proper funerals. That hurt more than anything in his life right now, it was a more intense pain than even the mark on his hand when it came in contact with rifts. To have had a family but knowing that they had all died, but somehow, he had lived.

They made their way to the chantry in silence. Both Varric and Cassandra knowing that if the elf wanted to keep quiet, he would keep quiet. No matter how many question being asked to him. Varric knew if he wanted to know more, he had to do things slowly, ask a question here, a question there and give the kid time to heal between them. 

Isala scooted the door to the chantry open only to feel his hand crackle as a rift revealed itself for their eyes in the middle of the chantry. Isala was amazed how the rift had opened up inside a room, a room that was supposed to be a holy room even. As they walked further inside he saw a man, a mage by the staff and robes to guess. He was fighting with a demon, probably all run out of mana since he had resorted to bashing the staff's blunt end to demon heads and Isala quietly wondered why the mage hadn't purchased a staff blade for times like these. Not that now was the time to ask with the rift pulsing to let off a new wave of demons.

"Good, you are finally here! Now help me close this will you?"

Isala nodded once then hurled himself into the chaos as the demons sprung loose raging about in the room. They easily took them all down and Isala growled when the magic in his hand sung out for the match of the rift calling out for it. He let his left hand up high and allowed the connection to happen, green leashes swirled and twirled between his palm and the rift. He pulled the leashes tight and forced the bridge into the fade to implode and closed. 

"Fascinating! How does that work? You don't even know do you? You just wiggle your fingers and boom! Rifts closes." 

Isala rolled his eyes looking at the man in front of him who sounded entirely too amused by the fact that he had closed a rift. It was rather obvious this man was from Tevinter and Isala wasn't certain he was happy about that. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest, the left one underneath the other, just in case this man would decide to try to touch it or something like that. What he couldn't understand was why Felix had sent him to another Tevinter mage but clearly there must be some kind of reason..

"Who are you exactly? And where is Felix?" He asked a bit more tense than perhaps intended.

"Ah, getting ahead of myself again I see. My name is Dorian, of house Pavus. Recently of Minrathous. And Felix should be on his way. He was to deliver you the message then join us after he had ditched his father." The man informed.

Dorian had white robes, a silly mustache that fitted the mage oddly well, dark hair that was almost black and black makeup around stormy grey eyes. By the looks, Isala guessed some kind of nobility. No markers claiming him as a magister so probably a son who had still parents alive, much like Felix.

"Is Felix sick? Alexius couldn't get to Felix's side fast enough when he pretended to be faint. Alexius didn't usually get that skittish when he did that before." He knew his voice was full of concern. But Felix was... his friend, or something akin to friendship and Isala was concerned, worried even.

"You know Felix from before then? Wait, yes, I see it now. Tarsicius priced possession... I heard he died. But yes, Felix has had some lingering illness for months, being the only son Alexius is being a mother hen most likely."

"Isala Shadow. I take it you are a friend of Felix?"

"Yes, I was Alexius apprentice for several years then his research partner so my insight will be valuable as you may see. Since you know Felix I assume you know how easy it is to get friends with Felix, you just have to be a decent man." Dorian said cheerfully. "Even if Felix will always be the best of us."

"All of those true, so what is Alexius doing here? Seems strange for him to already be here..."

"Let's start with Alexius how he stole the mage rebels from right under you. As is by magic,yes? Which is exactly what it is. To reach Redcliffe before the inquisition, Alexius distorted time itself."

"Manipulating time itself? Many have attempted over the ages, but never once succeeded" Vivienne said and shook her head.

"Magisters." Isala grunted, if anyone would do something so stupid, it'd be magisters no doubt. 

"The rift you closed here, did you see how it twisted time around itself? Sped some things up and other things down."

"Yes, Alexius work I assume?"

"Indeed. Soon the rifts will be more, found further and further away from Redcliffe. The magic Alexius is using is wildly unstable, and it's unraveling the world."

"Why would he do that?" Varric moved closer and frowned "I mean, what does he gain from making the rifts worse?"

"Can we really trust this man? It sounds far fetched." Cassandra warned.

"I know what I am talking about. I helped develop this magic. When I was still his apprentice, it was pure theory. Alexius could never get it to work."

Isala knew better than most that Magisters always were up to something wildly dangerous. He knew that it was also very possible that Alexius had found a way for his time magic to work. Magisters didn't have any lids, no one who said 'stop, this is enough'. They justified themselves by saying it was mere research even if they always wanted more. Else he wouldn't  be the elf he was today. Without his old master he wouldn't have what ran thick in his blood, what made him more than just a regular elf.

"Well, that is what I don't know. It doesn't make any sense. Ripping time to shreds just to gain a few hundred lackeys?"

"He didn't do it for them."

Felix walked in through a side door and looked at them with a slight smile, sending a little nod to Isala. But Isala was still concerned. He looked at Felix as if trying to spot what was wrong with the young mage. Lingering illness for months. Dorian had said, what if it was terminal, the only way out death? He shuddered slightly. Felix if someone didn't deserve death.

"Took you long enough! Is he getting suspicious?" Dorian asked but Isala's eyes lingered on the mage.

"No but I shouldn't have pulled the illness card. Thought he'd be fuzzing over me all day.."

"Felix... are you okay?" He couldn't keep himself from asking. 

Looking at Felix properly, the man didn't look well at all, bags under his eyes and a weariness that mostly showed in old men or those with very little life left. Not what was meant to be in a young man's face. There was a time where he wouldn't have cared too much about this mage's fate. Felix was someone he had met at only a few occasions in a magisters house while under slavery. The only reason he liked Felix was because he had been kind to him.

Which every slave thought about the magisters and nobles of Tevinter. As a slave he had loved his master, Tarsicius didn't beat him as much or hard as others might would have done, he didn't fuck him as hard as he could have, he didn't use too much of his blood in that last ritual. Tarsicius had been a good master and he had been thankful about that.

Of course, with perspective of freedom, all of those things were bad even if they could have been worse. But Felix had been different, they had talked, like equals even if they had spoken hushed so no one would noticed. Felix had got him cookies and food, treated him like a person, not just a thing, he had never called him slave of knife ear. 

After the incident at Seheron, Isala had gained a very possessive stroke of nature. He easily deemed people his friends and family and held them tight, wishing nothing more than keep them safe and protected from the world. Sometime between seeing Felix again after so many years and as of right now, the possessive part of him had claimed Felix as friend, as part of his people.

"It could be worse." Felix said with a tired little smile, but a smile that had life in it nonetheless. 

"Could be a lot better." Dorian mumbled under his breath but Isala heard it.

"My father's joined a cult, Tevinter supremacists. They call themselves Venatori, and I can tell you one thing. Whatever he's done for them, he's done to get to you."

"Why would he rearrange time and indenture the mage rebellion just to get to a runaway slave?"

Isala couldn't think up a good reason. Even if he was to be brought in for punishment it didn't make sense to go through all this trouble, especially not after ten years. They could have just searched for him at Seheron if they really wanted to pull him back. Not that they would return home with their lives though, but it would have made more sense than this.

"They are obsessed with you, I don't think it's about your past, more likely that you survived the temple of sacred ashes."

"You can close the rifts, maybe that's the connection. You killed Tarsicius yes? Perhaps they see you as a threat?" Dorian suggested. It was possible he supposed.

"If the Venatori are behind those rifts or the breach in the sky, they are even worse than I thought" Felix said and shuddered at the thought.

Isala rubbed his forehead then pinched the bridge of his nose, maybe they were after him for what his old master put inside him. No.. they wouldn't know about that, Tarsicius never had the time to tell anyone the tale. More likely they were interested in the mark on his hand. Perhaps they thought they could make him wield it for their time magic thing.

"You know you are his target. Expecting the trap is the first step in turning it to your advantage. I can't stay in Redcliffe. Alexius don't know I'm here and I want to keep it that way. But whenever you are ready to go after Alexius. I want to be there. I'll be in touch."

Dorian began walking to the opposite back door of the one Felix had entered in. Isala tried to think all the information he had been given through to know what to do about it all other than cursing the bloody Magisters again and run back to Seheron. Halfway through the room Dorian turned around, holding his fingertips together looking at Felix directly. 

"Oh, and Felix. Try not to get yourself killed hm?"

"There are worse things than dying Dorian."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I don't really know if you guys like these little flashbacks of Isala, so feedback if you want more of those or less would be appreciated :) 
> 
> You are all wonderful <3


	8. 8: Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the Herald of Andraste just need to be alone, other times, he just need to be allowed to lean on people's shoulders.

**9:41 Dragon -The Hinterlands-**

Meeting with Alexius again after all these years had rattled him. He couldn't entirely grasp what emotions he was feeling about it all. Rage, confusion, fear and sorrow all mixed together perhaps, and all he could do not to scream loudly on top of his lungs, was to make no sounds at all. What he needed was time for himself and Haven would offer him no such thing.

Varric had of course noted the way the strange elf had clammed himself back up when they walked out of Redcliffe. Not that he blamed him, Fenris hadn't been too talkative either when people asked him about his slavery. More than that he wanted Danarius dead, and after Danarius death the elf had seen even less inclined to speak about slavery, and that was without meeting magisters from his past while needing something they possessed. 

Snapdragon turned to him as they walked the road through the crossroads and instead of speaking he moved his his hands rapidly. Since the elf had been speaking the latest weeks this sudden change threw Varric off balance so he nearly missed half of it. But he read through the lines and understood that the elf needed to be alone, something about, that, not being possible in Haven and Varric had to admit that he agreed with that.

Cassandra had tried to argue but both Varric and Bull had told her that it was for the best to just let the elf be for some hours. Isala had just signed a quick sign of gratitude before quickly darting away so no one would have the time to change their minds and stop him from leaving.

So, all alone he made his way over the empty valley walking over the kings road in silence. The mages and templars were gone and all that could be heard was birds tweeting or the rustling of leaves. This way not before long he found himself at Dennet's farm. The quartermaster there told him about the problems with bandits and the mistress of the house told him about the wolves. 

It was a trade. If he fixed their security Dennet would provide the inquisition with the finest horses of Ferelden. That was a fair trade he figured and neither of those things sounded too exhausting or hard to do on his own and it would also make for a fine distraction. It meant no talking to people, just marking locations on a map and find out what made the wolves go rabid.

Marking out the locations for good watch towers had been easy and the reason the wolves had been acting strange was because of a demon, of course it was a demon, what else in this blighted hell place would it have been? Slaying the demon without harming any of the wolves proved a challenge but a challenge he could manage nonetheless. Scrabbling through the gory mess of the fallen and bleeding demon, he found some residues that Minaeve would love and a necklace he rather liked, a wolf tooth on a leather cord that he put around his neck. 

When the demon had died the wolves had scattered out and scrambled off leaving him alone. He quietly sank down to the ground leaned against the rocks on a good spot where he was covered by rock above him but could still watch up on the night sky. The bright light of day had slowly darkened as the night was creeping up on him where he sat. He didn't want to go back to Haven and sleep in a house, he missed sleeping in caves or under the night sky and here, here he had both, so he decided to stay, just for the night. 

About an hour or a half the leader wolf silently made her way over the cavern floor towards him. She didn't threaten him, she wasn't there to harm him and he wasn't there to harm her. A Dalish would not have cared. The clans saw wolves as a token of the dread wolf, the god who locked away their other gods and they would not allow wolves close to themselves as they feared them to be Fen'Harel's followers. Or something like that, he wasn't sure.

Isala wasn't Dalish and didn't know the lore properly. He was from no clan and he did not believe in their gods. He didn't believe in any gods actually. What he believed in was people who wanted things to change for the better, those who wanted freedom to be for everyone, that, he believed.

After the leader wolf dropped her heavy head in his lap, the other wolves slowly joined and curled up around him. He spent hours petting the large beast that rested her head in his lap, not caring that he couldn't really feel his legs anymore under her weight. Wolf fur was rough and warm, adapted to survive the colder climate, except the ears, those were velvety and soft when he  stroke his fingers over them. 

That's how Solas found their mystery Herald the next morning, curled up asleep in a pack of wolves. As if the other elf needed to be more of a mystery than he already was. Wolves did not often take kindly to strangers walking into the midst of their lair. He if anyone would know that. He slowly approached the wolves and the sleeping elf, leaned to his staff and crouched down to gently put a hand on the sleeping elf's shoulder.

"Lethallin, it is time you wake up." He said calmly. 

Isala jumped startled earning himself a growl from the wolf on his lap and he stared around in confusion at first. It had been dark, he was sure it had been dark, had he slept through the entire night? Then he noted Solas and he sighed quietly and closed his eyes again, found, brilliant. He didn't want to go back to Haven yet. That's why he was out here, camping with a pack of wolves, so people wouldn't be able to come close to him. Which made him wonder how Solas had just strolled up to them without the wolves reacting. 

"Solas, how are..." He began tiredly but Solas stopped him by speaking before he had finished his question.

"You have your tricks as I have mine, I pose these wolves no harm and they are aware." Solas said calmly. 

"Right... yes of course." Isala mumbled drowsily and sighed deeply.

"Cassandra fear you have left the inquisition for good and people are concerned that the Herald is missing." Solas explained to him

Isala felt his shoulders sag and he took a deep breath running his fingers gently through rough wolf fur to calm himself down, to ground him back to earth. He hadn't asked to be the herald of anything. He didn't even believe in the maker and he wished people would stop trying to make him believe. He wished that people would stop forcing him to live a life he was uncomfortable with. What if he one day wished to leave? Would he be hunted to the far edges of the world and dragged back?

The humans even said in their chant that elves were not children of the maker. All because elves choose to believe in something else. Just because the Dalish didn't want to submit to the human's maker and servitude they were hunted down, killed and forced into being slaves. Forced to believe in a god that supposedly hated their race. Now they were trying to drag him into it all, to force him to believe in their maker, force him to be a sign for their maker and his divine power... it was sickening. 

"Cassandra asked me the other day, is there really no room for the maker among your gods..." Isala said slowly. Cassandra thought he believed in the Dalish gods and he simply hadn't cared to correct her. "But why would there be room for their maker when they have no room for our creators?" He asked and looked at Solas "I don't want the title Herald of Andraste, I do not want to be part of the religion that kills and enslave the elven people because of their pointed ears and their free will. I might not believe in the creators as gods, but it doesn't mean others shouldn't be allowed to do it if it is what they wish."

"What is it you believe in Lethallin?" Solas asked calmly but with interest. 

"I believe in people who try to change things with the thought of those in worse situations than themselves. I believe in people who try to make life better for others, no matter if it will make things worse for themselves. As long as they try, it is more than many others do and that is what I believe in."

Solas looked at the other elf with surprise. It was not often that he met someone with such values in life. Perhaps he had been searching in the wrong places while looking for people to share knowledge and ideas with, to spread his network in. Perhaps he had wrongly judged those elves who lived in alienages. But no, he had tried that too and it had failed. But this elf had not lived in an alienage, this elf had been a slave who had fought his way through blood for freedom. It was worthy of respect.

"That is honorable beliefs and something more people should take into concern before they act out of their own selfish wishes. But come, we should return to Haven before Cassandra starts an exalted march to find you."

Isala snorted and carefully got up from the wolves, stretching out the kinks in his joints from sleeping in a horrible position all night. The two of them left in an comfortable silence. 

* * *

"Heard 'bout Redcliffe, you okay there?"

Isala had been silent for several hours when they had returned to Haven. Had bluntly ignored anyone trying to talk to him and was now on his fourth mug of the swill they claimed were alcohol in the tavern. Krem had joined him some hour or two ago and they had just sat in silence, listening to the bard. He had nearly forgotten the warrior was even there until he spoke up again. 

He didn't mind Krem, actually he kind of liked the man. They were both from Tevinter, since Krem had no magic he didn't doubt that they both had been in the bottom of society, but both of them had broken free and left their homeland. Even if he had no idea how Krem had left, he still felt that it was something that pulled them together, something they shared.

"I don't actually know." He admitted to him. Which was the first thing he had said since his little chat with Solas earlier that morning. "Tevinter... I thought it was all behind me, fuck, it's been what... ten years?" He asked, mostly himself and took a deep swig of the filth that was in his cup.

"Never really leaves you. I was in the army you know. Bribed some doctors to pass me by in inspections."

Isala looked at the man beside him with a bit of curiosity. He knew Krem had the wrong parts but he didn't know much more of the man or how he had lived his life before. The imperial army consisted of men, women had other tasks so it must have been hard for Krem to get in without anyone finding it out. Not just the doctors but the other soldiers. 

"What happened?" He hoped he was allowed to ask.

"Well, it was fine for several years, then there was a surprise inspection, I just barely got away when they realized, ran for all I was worth. They caught up to me eventually though. Planning... well, let's just say they wanted my pants by my ankles before dragging me for court." 

"Did they...?"

"No, suddenly the room was full of a huge ass Qunari, took a blow to his face the crazy bastard."

"That's how he lost his eye?"

"Yeah, and all the crazy bastard did was telling me I was safe." Krem laughed lightly. "My father was a tailor so I emergency stitched up what I could, been with him ever since."

Isala smiled slightly and leaned his head to Krem's firm armored shoulder and closed his eyes trying to imagine it but it only made him give up a slight giggle over how shocked the imperial bounty hunters must have been to come face to face with a Qunari all of a sudden. So, maybe he was a little drunk, because Krem smelled really  nice and his thoughts was straying where they certainly shouldn't right now. He quickly pushed that aside, Krem had told him something, he should tell something back.

"I was a slave, born to it. My first master sold me when I was just  young child because I was very clumsy. I think I was sold for just a couple of coppers, I was sure I was going to be killed. Got lucky, a man bought me and taught me how to not be clumsy."

Krem nodded looking down at the elf, listening to him. He didn't push the elf away either, the poor guy needed someone to lean on. "You don't strike me as clumsy, I've seen you fight." The warrior pointed out while smiling encouraging to get the elf to continue. The elf laughed lightly and shook his head or rather squished his face against the armor on his shoulder, perhaps he should have gone with just a tunic. 

"No, I was taught better. I think I was with him for four years then he sold me for a couple of silvers. That's when I grew into my own body I suppose. My new master died and I was brought to one of those high society slave trade soirees, painted in gold and dressed in tight leather breeches, even the archon showed an interest in me, but didn't approve of my knife skills. I was sold to Tricienus for a lot of coin."

"Then you escaped?"

"Same year as the blight yes. My master had taken me to Seheron, I found my chance and I killed him. He used to know Alexius, I locked up when I saw him."

He huffed and curled up slightly and tossed up his legs in Krem's lap. He was terrified over sharing all of this, but it was really good to let it out and Krem was nice, Krem understood because he was from Tevinter. His fog group had known too, he had told them and they had understood. But they weren't alive anymore, but Krem was... Isala stopped his own thoughts because they didn't even make sense to himself. 

"Hey, bastard got what he deserved. Slavery is wrong. If you ever need backup the chargers will be here, you can't do everything alone. Besides, Bull has taken a liking in you, says you fight like a little package of death."

Isla snorted amused and nodded slightly. He did fight like a little package of death when he really fought hard. He had already known the chargers would fight for him, he was paying them after all. But it was nice to hear Krem say it out loud like that, it made it more like if they would fight for him even if he wasn't paying them to do it.

"Thank you Krem. It means a lot."


	9. 9: Trap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isala goes to Redcliffe to negotiate about the mages needed for the breach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Memories about Tevinter that might be disturbing for some. be cautious.

**9:41 Dragon -Haven-**

A few days after Isala had his little drunken breakdown on Krem in the tavern, a letter arrived from Alexius. It was an overly polite letter inviting the Herald of Andraste for an evening of negotiations about the mages required to close the breach. Though the magister made damn sure to show exactly how low position Isala still had in the imperium by signing the letter to  _'Pulchra; Previous citizen of the Tevinter Imperium.'_

Isala had just scoffed when Josephine read him the letter and shook his head. He knew Alexius hoped to throw him off balance by taunting him about his name. Trying to get him angry and thus careless enough to make some mistake. But if the magister really thought that calling him Pulchra and implying he was still a slave would make him loose his head, he was sadly mistaken. As if he hadn't suffered worse insults by the hand of magisters or other people above himself.  

He looked at the letter that laid on the table beside the map as he stood leaned to his elbows to the table. Then he continued playing with the little castle piece that was supposed to represent Redcliffe castle. The other four people in the room were arguing over what to do next, why templars or mages were the right decision. Isala looked at the other little castle that rested over the mapped out spot where the templar order were hiding out, reminding him that they were still an option. Cullen stood firmly behind the thought that the templars would be a lot more logical but Isala did't care. He had already made up his mind to go after Alexius. 

"I choose Redcliffe. There's a magister there that need some sense beaten into him, and I will not just abandon Felix when he has asked for my help. Secure Redcliffe and we secure an alliance, not only in the mages but in Felix. It would help us to gain a foothold in Tevinter. He was always a good man and I doubt that has changed."

Cullen argued that this was a particularly bad idea, that if he went in there he would die and their only chance to close the breach in the sky would die with him. Josephine pointed out that even if they could (which they couldn't) storm the castle with what little army they had, an Orlesian Inquisition army marching into Ferelden would not been taken kindly and would more likely provoke a war that they could not afford to start. 

Isala suggested that they should sneak inside. Rich, high up people always had a way out from their castles and mansions in a pinch. Leliana agreed on that. She even knew a secret passage into the castle, she had been there and used it once, during the blight with the hero of Ferelden. She could send in a couple of agents and take out the resistance from the inside before anyone even knew what happened.

All they would need would be a distraction for Alexius so the magister wouldn't figure out what they were up to until it was too late for him to do anything about it.

Isala pointed out that Alexius **had**  sent out an invitation for him to come to the castle for negotiations about the mages. They all knew it was a trap but it would provide for a good distraction. If Isala brought Iron Bull, Cassandra and Solas, Alexius would expect an attack but he'd expect it from Isala and not stealthy agents sneaking in from the hidden entrance. 

However knowing Alexius, or rather knowing magisters and rich people. Isala knew that there would be magical wards and if they couldn't bypass them by safely disarming them, Alexius would know they were there faster than it took a dragon to kill a nug. 

That was of course when Dorian strolled into the room at the most dramatic note possible as if he owned the place. Dorian knew Alexius wards and magics and could easily undo them to give a free path for the agents sent in by Leliana. Isala silently wondered how long Dorian had stood on the other side of the door jut waiting for a dramatic enough entrance before gracing them with his presence.

Isala was for the moment rather neutral in his stance on what he thought about Dorian. All he actually knew about the Tevinter mage was that he was a friend of Felix and that he wanted to help to stop Alexius and his madness.

* * *

**9:29 Dragon -Minrathous-**

"Pulchra, I will be spending some hours with magister Alexius. You will keep my staff and stay outside his office in case I will have need of you."

"Yes master Tarsicius. I will stay outside the office holding your staff while you are occupied, in case you need me."

They were standing in master Tarsicius mansion entrance. Pulchra was already loyally having a stack of four books resting against the nook of his left elbow, he had counted them proudly to himself. Tarsicius had taught him to count to ten just a month earlier and he proudly practiced every time he got the chance. Pulchra's delicate fingers and right hand were wrapped around the metal of his masters staff, carefully with the staff blade to the ground not to make any scratches in the white marble floor.

His master was picking between a few more books laying on the table standing in the middle of the room. His master swapped one of the books Pulchra was carrying with one of the books he had gone through before he put all attention back at the elf.

Pulchra was loyally looking down at the staff blade that touched the floor while waiting. He knew that before they left the house, master Tarsicius would ask him a couple of questions to make sure that Pulchra remembered how to act outside the house. Since he was always eager to serve his master and make the magister happy he knew these questions by heart and how to reply on them.

"What do you do if anyone tries to order you to do anything?"

Tarsicius asked as his master began to straighten out his tunic gently behind the stack of books, straighten out some of his jet black silky strands of hair that laid wrong and made sure there was nothing on his property that looked untidy.

"I come to you master and ask for your directions."

"And if they touch you?" 

"I use my knives."

"Why?"

"Because people would abuse me for my beauty and hurt me. No one loves me but you master."

"And do you love me pulchra?"

Fingers stroke over his cheek instead of his hair or Tunic and Pulchra closed his eyes leaning slightly to the touch. He loved when his master touched him, when his master's skin touched against his own. He bent like a flower in a window following the sun whenever his master touched him, always trying to get just a little more, to show he really loved his master. 

"I love you master Tarsicius. You are good to me when I am good. You only hurt me when I deserve being hurt."

And he knew that. Master Tarsicius only punished him when he misbehaved or failed in doing what his master had asked him. It was only right and if Pulchra did some minor mistake, master Tarsicius often gave him a choice. Either he took the punishment by taking a hit or being locked in the small closet in the basement for three days. Or, he could please his master by taking him in mouth, Pulchra wasn't too comfortable swallowing all of his master down, he'd choke and get a hard time breathing, but it was better than three days with no food and no light. 

"And seeing you hurt, hurt me more than it hurts you, do not make me hurt you my pet."

"I won't" He said quickly and leaned a bit more eagerly to the hand that was now stroking his jaw. 

Master Tarsicius liked to touch his face, he was used to the ringed fingers that stroke and explored his face. It was good every time those fingers touched him gently. He had been struck by his masters hand before and the rings had dug into the skin cutting it open in a long red stripe over his cheek.

That time it had been because he had dropped a glass of wine. The glass hadn't broke and it had only spilled out on the floor, no carpets or on anyone's robes, so he had easily been able to clean it up. That's why he had only been hit by the back of his masters hand and not forced into the dark. 

But there had been blood nonetheless and he had cried out his apologizes while master had healed his bleeding cheek so there would be no scars on him later. He had got away that time with just polishing the downstairs floors shining clean. 

"You won't make me hurt you will you? Now come closer and show me that you love me."

Pulchra quickly shuffled closer and tiptoed, carefully using his master's staff as leverage not to fall and eagerly put his lips against his masters own chapped lips and closed his eyes. He sighed blissfully as master Tarsicius fingers stroke though his silky hair keeping him as close as possible without the elf dropping the books he was holding with his left arm.

He didn't hesitate to let the older mage push his tongue into his mouth, granting access while letting his own tongue submit to is masters. Taricius always tasted like wine and something else, something slightly intimidating and corrupted, but after a year or two he was used to it enough not to want to pull back at once.

He gave up a little whine when his master pulled back and blushed, quickly looking down at the floor again for the ridiculous sound he had made. His master just chuckled and stroke his fingers over his jaw again once again. That meant the noise hadn't been forbidden or too bad. 

"Now now pet. When we come back, you can show the extent of your love to me. Tell me again before we go."

"I love you master Tarsicius."

* * *

**9:41 Dragon -Redcliffe Castle-**

The entrance hall they had stepped into had an ominous feeling that Varric would have said called _"shit about to go all kinds of weird very soon."_  The hall was empty besides one robed man who wore a helmet over his face covering it entirely from out of sight. Isala crossed his arms over his chest and stared him down where he guessed the human's eyes were. 

He had brought Bull with him. If there was something he knew from living with Tenek and Orchid it was that other races were always a bit intimidated by the giant horned people. Especially here in the south, as soon as Tenek and Orchid had passed a village down here in the south people had shied back or stayed indoors. Orchid had been uncomfortable with it but Tenek hadn't really cared, he had just crouched down and let the children touch his horns and tell them insane stories about them.

The man behind the mask didn't move and Isala tightened his arms just slightly over the chest and stretched out slightly. He dearly hoped this wasn't a statue or anything and that's why the man didn't say anything or moved a muscle. That would be awfully awkward.

"So what are you waiting for? A raise? Tell Alexius we're here or I'll let my large angry friend here sharpen his ax on your bones." He snapped. 

The man turned around and left and Isala smirked. He would lie if he'd say that he didn't like the way he could speak to the people that had been the ones controlling him. He was also damn relieved that the man he had spoken to him and wasn't in fact some kind of strange statue and he hadn't made a complete fool out of himself. Bull chuckled lightly behind him and Cassandra made a disgusted noise, Isala could practically hear her roll her eyes. 

"The masters invitation was for master Pulchra alone. The rest of you will have to stay here."

A blond human had joined them. One of the Fereldan mages, by the pale skin to go on, walked down the stairs as he looked at them in a very judging manner. He was clearly one of those who'm had adjusted quite quickly to the new arrangements with Tevinter, and stepped up as someone of somewhat importance to magister Alexius.

"Oh? You would refuse me my representatives to join me into negotiations? Last I was in Tevinter it was still costume not to go alone to such invites, unless it was to matters of a more... delicate nature... I assume Alexius has not converted to a post where we are going to have these negotiations inside the bedroom no?"

The blond man glared at him and Isala grinned smugly back at him. He could imagine Alexius dressed in laces and pretty silks as one of the whores of Minrahous whore houses. The picture was a ridiculous but highly entertaining. 

Without a word the blond man turned to show them the way to the throne room. Isala looked around curiously in the castle, these Fereldans clearly loved their dog carvings didn't they? They were rather nice though, but to be honest, the dragon statues of Tevinter spoke to his heart more, but that of course could be because dragons spoke to him in a way they did to no other.

"My lord magister. The agents of the inquisition is here."

Alexius sat upon the throne where Isala assumed the arl of Redcliffe was supposed to sit. He had of course already heard that the arl had been pretty much forced out of Redcliffe. He had went to Denerim to petition aid from the crown to regain the castle. The inquisition however couldn't wait for that to happen since Josephine had pointed out that it could take weeks if not months for the king to even move on Redcliffe. Time they didn't have.

The blond man bowed his head slightly out of respect for the magister. A respect that Isala didn't share nor copy. He had no interest of faking respect for a man not deserving it. Alexius however didn't take visible offence, he just smiled. The only showing of that he was annoyed or tense was that the smile was entirely fake and forced. Alexius stood up from the throne he had been seated on and gesticulated with his arms.

"My friend. It is good to see you again. And your... associates, of course."

Alexius was good at playing this game, but both Isala and Bull were good at reading people and not even their sharp eyes was needed to hear the strain in the magisters voice as he spoke about the other two following Isala to know they weren't at all a welcome addition. Isala's guess was that Alexius honestly had thought that Isala would show up alone, a stupid elf that should be following orders.

"Skip the bullshit pleasantries Alexius. We both know you're not happy to see me, and frankly, I'm not happy to see you either, so cut the act before you strain something." He cut short before the other man had time to make any more speeches. He wasn't in the mood to play this game with this magister.

Alexius looked him over from top to toe. Probably trying to decide weather to keep up his polite act or if they should both just go back to being short and rude or possibly if they would break out in a fight any moment now. Alexius made the decision and plastered on a wide smile before motioning with his hands as he spoke again.

"I am sure we can work out some arrangement to be equitable to all parties." Alexius forced his voice into polite even though it was clearly strained.

"Are we mages to have no voice in deciding our fate?" Fiona asked stepping towards them seemingly upset.

Isala wasn't sure if he was supposed to scoff at her or petty her. What had she actually thought? Indentured to a magister was only something good if you were human and from the imperium to start with. Else, you were a slave, perhaps a glorified slave if you were lucky but that title could be reached by anyone. He had himself been the favored slave of his old masters.

"Fiona, you would not have turned your followers over to my care if you did not trust me with their lives." Alexius chided her.

"This is what happens Fiona, this time next year you will be scrubbing floors and serving masters, possibly used for breeding, you have a pretty face but not pretty enough for personal use of a magister. But since I am here to make negotiations, I invite Fiona to be part of this as a guest of the inquisition."

Mostly to spite Alexius to be honest, the magister didn't want her to be a part of this and just for that it was in Isala's interest that she was part of this. He still thought Fiona were as stupid as they came. No elf, mage or not, willingly pledged themselves to the imperium if they had any brain inside their heads. He wasn't certain he could ever not see her as overly stupid for it. Perhaps that was unfair of him, she had been under a lot of pressure as of late and pressure tended to be a foundation for bad decisions.

But he had been under pressure as well, threatened, broken, crushed, and all he would have needed to do for it to stop was to say yes. But he had refused, two years and he had refused to submit again even if there was no chance to flee from his captures.

"Thank you." The elven mage said polite, if a bit stiff.

Alexius was clearly even more displeased than before about Fiona joining the negotiations and Isala felt terribly smug over being the cause of such irritation. This wasn't at all going the way Alexius wanted it to go and the air practically sizzled of pure annoyance and irritation. He wondered briefly exactly what Alexius had thought would happen here. If Alexius had thought that Isala would have come alone and been an easy target to kill or drag back to Tevinter. 

The magister strode back to the throne and sat down on it heavily, crossed his legs and dropped his arms on the armrests comfortably. Isala wondered what had changed his man. From what he remembered Alexius had been like other magisters, thinking highly of himself but never this full of... whatever it was he was full of.

"The inquisition need mages to close the breach, and I have them. So what shall you offer in exchange?"

As if Isala would offer him anything. This was part of the little game that Alexius was playing. Whatever Alexius was waiting for and why the mgister didn't just kill him or knocked him over the head to pull back to Tevinter at once, Isala had no idea of. He himself preferred to just have it done with, no more delays, he had seen Leliana's agent's from the corner of his eye taking out Alexius Tevinter agents which meant his part was done, the stalling and distracting was done.

"Since you are plotting on taking my life, how about I offer you yours in exchange for the mages, and information of the Venatori."

"And how do you know of that name I wonder?" Alexius asked half interested leaning forwards in the throne.

"He knows everything father." Felix said calmly as he took a step closer to his father.

Alexius looked shocked as if Felix had just slapped him across the face. Felix just looked at his father with that tired sad look of a man who saw someone they cared for change into the worse. And Alexius must have, even if he was a bad man who did mad things right now, he hadn't always been. Alexius was still Felix's father, Felix still cared deeply for his father and for Felix's sake, Isala felt a bit bad over the situation.

"Felix, what have you done?"

"Felix is a good man, he is concerned about you, that you are involved in something terrible"

Isala wasn't sure why he interfered. Perhaps out of petty for Felix who saw his own father being pulled into this madness. Perhaps it was so Felix wouldn't have to see the relationship with his father cut to an end for doing the right thing. What he knew was that he had spoken up for Felix's sake and no one else.

"So speaks the thief. Do you think you can turn my son against me slave? You walk into my stronghold with your stolen mark -a gift you don't even understand- and think you're in control?"

Isala snorted shaking his head as Alexius stood. Since they were all standing in the arl of Redcliffe's castle and the arl had been forced to leave his own home because Alexius took control of it, saying that Isala was the thief here was rather ironical. "Says the man who stole an entire castle from the arl." He mumbled to himself.

"You are nothing but a mistake."

"Tell me about it. Actually, since you claim yourself expert. Explain. What is this mark meant to do Alexius?" Isala demanded.

"It belongs to your betters. You wouldn't even begin to understand it's purpose."

"Father, listen to yourself! Do you know what you sound like?"

"He sounds exactly like the sort of villainous cliche everyone expects us to be."

Dorian joining them on the best possible timing as before in the war room and Isala gave him a nod of acknowledgement before he looked back at Alexius where the man stood looking less calm than before.

"Dorian... I gave you a chance to be a part of this."

After that Alexus began babbling on about the elder one, the man who would put the imperium back to it's former glory. How Tevinter would spread all over Thedas as it had once done, as it was meant to be. With the power of this elder one they would raise from the ashes, all they needed was Isala dead. To undo the events at the conclave where Isala had interfered with this elder ones plans.

Suddenly Alexius called out for his Venatori to grab them but the other Tevinters in the room hiding behind masks fell to the floor, all dead. Inquisition soldiers stepped into their places. Before Isala knew what was happening Alexius was doing something with his hands, a spell crackling and sizzling around an amulet in the air. Dorian shouted out loud and threw himself forwards with a spell of his very own. Isala felt the mage fall over him and together they tumbled down to the floor or what should have been the floor.


	10. 10: Mages and Kings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isala recruits the mages and meets with the king of Ferelden. Who'd have known Alistair was a goofball.

**9:41 Dragon -Redcliffe Castle-**

So Alexius little spell throwing thing had hurtled Isala and Dorian into a fucked up future of death and red lyrium everywhere. Red lyrium in the walls, floors inside his people... To say that Isala had been pissed beyond measurement was an understatement to say the least when they had moved through the almost deserted castle where everyone, even those who had once been Venatori were all dead or turned into demons. 

He had seen Bull, Cassandra and Leliana give their lives for him. He wasn't sure what had shook him up the most. To see what would happen if he failed, if he wasn't there to stop the madness that was about to erupt in the world. Or if it was to see his companions so readily give up their lives for him, so him and Dorian could go back to undo what had happened.

Seeing Bull's body tossed to the side like a sack of trash hurt. Seeing Leliana take arrow after arrow  woke up an ancient fury inside him that threatened to devour him in a frenzy. The only thing keeping him from throwing himself into the chaos was Dorian's fingers neatly wrapped around his wrist holding him back as the spell that would take them back was building up around them.  

As the spell grabbed it's hold on them and spit them out back in their own year Isala had to stop himself from attacking Alexius then and there. The only thing stopping him was Felix. Felix still alive, blighted sure, but alive. Felix didn't deserve something so horrid as to see his own fathers throat being slit in front of him. As long as Alexius didn't lash out that was, if the magister attacked he'd kill him without hesitation.

"It is over Alexius! Do one wrong move and I **will**  kill you. The only reason you are still alive is because I respect your son." He said in warning as he stepped closer.

"You won... there is no point extending this charade... Felix." 

Alexius just sank down on his knees. A man who saw his situation hopless and just yielded. That was unexpected and Isala just silently stared as Felix crouched down in front of his father, putting his hand against the older mage. Alexius had been willing to put the world into shambles just to save the life of his son. To rescue Felix from the blight when all else had failed. 

"It's going to be okay father."

"You will die."

"Everyone dies."

Isala felt like he shouldn't be listening to this conversation. It was something private between Felix and Alexius. None of this excused what Alexius had done or rather what he had planned to do. Helping to destroy the world wasn't right no matter your motives.

But what would he himself have done? If Isala would have been given the chance to save Tenek, Orchid, Septimus, Rowena and Keelah? He would have put the world in ruin to save them, he would have arranged time if he could bring his family back. And that thought scared him more than anything. Because Alexius wasn't the face of evil, he was a broken man who was trying to save his family. How could Isala judge him for that? Luckily, that wasn't up to him, he just hoped that whoever had that problem later would have that in mind.

Two inquisition agents began leading Alexius out and Felix followed them. Isala turned to Felix before he could leave the room. "Felix, I need you to come with to Haven, we have a few things to discuss before... I can let you go back to Tevinter." Perhaps he should have said, before you die. Before I never get to see you ever again. Before the blight claim your life.

Felix just nodded giving the slightest of smiles before he left with his father and the soldiers. Isala took a deep breath trying to put everything in order of importance but Felix was the one thing flooding his head as of right now. He had heard whispers of the hero of Ferelden being blighted then cured by the joining of the grey warden ranks. He hadn't heard much at Seheron, after all, the blight hadn't gotten that far, but perhaps Blackwall could do something to save Felix.

Isala's thoughts were interrupted by the doors flying open and Fereldan soldiers marched in through the hall and Isala blinked looking at them, then the man following them in the middle. He had absolutely no idea that this was the king of Ferelden until Fiona said  _'king Alistair.'_ out loud. 

The king loudly spoke to Fiona about her giving up Redcliffe castle to a Tevinter magister. Especially pointing out that the castle in fact belonged to Arl Teagan. The regret in Alistair's voice and face as he was forced to banish her and the free mages told Isala that this wasn't what the king  actually wanted. But he had a country to care for, things like this could not happen if he wanted to keep his land safe.

Isala understood why, he didn't mind mages, he had lived with Orchid for many years, but he did mind when mages did stupid things like ally with Tevinter. However he would have minded any group of people trying to ally with Tevinter so it had more to do with stupidity than them being mages. Banishment was a mild punishment for them. The Qunari and the Vints would have just executed them for being traitors to the crown so to say.

"But we have hundreds who need protection.. where would we go..?"

"Venhedis fasta vass!" He cursed and glared at her "I came here to get the aid of the mages. An aid I still require mind you."

"But... what of the terms?" She asked hesitant.

"Hopefully better than what Alexius gave you. The inquisition IS better than that yes?" Dorian asked and looked at Isala curiously.

"I suggest conscripting them. They've proven what they do given too much freedom." Cassandra said crossing her arms

"I suggest you accept his offer, one way or another, you are leaving my kingdom." Alistair added in.

"It seems we have little choice than to accept whatever you offer."

And when did all this become his job to choose what to do? At one hand, Fiona had clearly proved she had no head for making deals. At the other, Isala wanted people to be free, that's why he fought all those years on Seheron, but no one there was stupid enough making deals with Tevinter nor the Qunari if they truly wanted to be free.

He could choose to bring the mages in with careful watch from the templars they still had, treat them as prisoners and nothing more. Or he could let them ally, like people who didn't need jailers. His thoughts brought him to Orchid, the scars in her lips from where her mouth had been sewn shut while she was just a child.

"You may come as our allies. I have no quarrel with your people." He said calmly then he looked at Fiona dangerously. "But if any of you even think about making more deals with Tevinter I'll send you in boxes with pretty little bows on top to Par Vollen as a reconciliation gifts for you to be the new Qunari bas saarebaas. Is this understood?" 

Fiona paled slightly but Isala couldn't pull himself to feel guilty. He would of course send no one to the Qunari. If they ever did something as stupid as they had done here he would just send them out on their asses in the snow to survive on their own. But he needed her to know how important this was. The mages would be treated with respect but in return he wanted to be treated with respect as well.

Fiona agreed with their bargain and left the room to gather her fellow mages to return to Haven. Isala pulled his hand over his face and sighed deeply. It had been a strange, very long evening and he longed for a quick wash up then some sleep. Alas, he had one more thing he needed to do before he could go back. He asked if he could have a private word with the king and the man accepted. 

They didn't leave the room, it would be rather foolish and dangerous for the king to accept that, so instead they took up a corner far enough not to be overheard but close enough for Alistair's soldiers to see them where they stood chatting. 

"As I understand it, you are a grey warden of quite the rank yes?" Isala asked looking at Alistair curiously. 

"Weeell, my wife certainly are." Alistair said and laughed lightly "Why? If this is about why they are all gone I can't say, it's grey warden hush hush, sorry about that."

"No this... uhm, could you write a friend of mine a letter of recommendation? He is tainted by the blight and I have heard it is a cure to join your ranks."

Isala decided that going straight on what he knew and what he wanted to have asked would work best here. For some reason Alistair didn't strike him like the kind of man who liked the political games of hanging around the bushes. Besides Isala was eager to get back to Haven soon to get a drink, wash and some sleep since he wanted to close the damn breach as soon as possible, preferably tomorrow.

"Oh... well, yes and no. It would buy him some years, thirty at maximum and it is not even certain he survive the joining... And things right now are... not exactly _stable_ in the order" Alistair said thoughtfully

"As it is now, he has perhaps weeks not more. Felix is a good man and he helped prevent what his father planned here."

"I see... usually I wouldn't at a time like this, but... I will see what I can do, me writing a letter might not help but my wife, Lyna, she certainly could send a letter. I will write to you as soon as we have word."

"Thank you. I stand in your debt for it."

"Naaaah, I'll just invite you over for cheese some day to Denerim! You have no idea how annoying it is to just chat with people who call you _'your majesty'_ like if I lost my name somewhere in the blight."

Isala snorted amused and shook his head, he in fact did know exactly how annoying it was when people couldn't use his name but insisted on calling him Herald of Andraste. Alistair was a strange man but the fun kind of strange man, if there was an invitation he would show up, with wine, he better getting drunk with Alistair would prove an experience. 

"Ah well, nameless king majesty, I look forwards for cheese. I shall bring some wine so we can get wasted and complain about the things people call us." Isala teased and grinned at him.

Alistair laughed and saluted before they parted ways. Alistair to make sure no Venatori hid out in the castle and Isala to get back to Haven. Now with the mages, he had a breach to close, a person to make sure to get unblighted, and an invitation from a king about a relaxing night. Then, when all was done he could return back home to Seheron. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter but hey sometimes I make short chapters :) Thank you all for reading and leaving Kudos and coments you make my day <3


	11. 11: Corypheus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The breach is closed but something is immensely wrong. 
> 
> (Violence, injuries and a death wish because of said injuries, be warned just in case that is disturbing to you!)

**9:41 Dragon -Haven-**

The breach was closed, which should have meant that all was well. But Isala couldn't stop thinking about the Elder one that Alexius had spoken of. The one responsible for this mess in the first place. According to how Alexius had spoken of this elder one, it seemed unlikely that he'd died in the blast of the conclave. Nor did he seem to be the man who would sit idle now that they had undone his work.

Isala had the feeling that something was amiss, something they couldn't see yet. Something that was lurking out there, just beyond reach, something that they were missing. That feeling held him back from joining the rest of Haven's townspeople and their soldiers in the merry celebration that was happening all around him.

He couldn't celebrate when his guts was telling him to get everyone to stop and run before they were caught in something big and bad. Back in Seheron a similar feeling would have him and his little group move camp to somewhere else, and most of those times only a few hours later there would be Qunari, Tal-Vasoth or vints moving in on their previous camp. 

It was an instinct that laid ancient and deep inside his blood. It was an instinct that he used in battle to know where next blow would be thrown. An instinct that told him to always be free, an instinct that had been added on him by his old master the day before Isala had killed him.

He stood on the upper platform silently  watching the dancing and singing people. His gaze always moving up now and again, watching the furthest treeline in the valley, searching for the source of the feeling but found nothing but snow and trees. His eyes would wander back to the people in silence. This could possibly just be too many people that were too close to him after all that had happened. In Redcliffe, in the dark future him and Dorian had seen, something had woken up in him when he saw his friends die, something he hadn't felt this strongly before.

He noticed when Cassandra stepped up beside him but he didn't let his gaze to her, he was too occupied in keeping the edge of the valley under vigilant guard. He could hear her speaking to him though. About the breach being closed, alliances and that would be hard to keep now that they had closed the breach. That they would have to work hard to remain important enough to meddle in this whole mage rebellion affair.

Isala only gave grunts or half answers in return to show her he was still listening to her even if he only did so with a half ear. He held his hand up to hush her mid sentence of a sudden as he had stopped listening to her all together and was focusing on straining his ears. He definitely heard something. A something that wasn't Cassandra or drunken people laughing. Maybe he hadn't heard it as much as he had felt it.

It stirred and prodded in his chest and was demanding to be acknowledged because within short it would be needed for his survival.. There was something in the distance, something large and dangerous but it was drowned out **from**  the people **by**  the people.

"Sound the alarm. We are under attack." He said and was already loosening up on his daggers.

He decided better safe than sorry, or rather better sorry and safe than happy but dead. Cassandra just looked at him confused but as he was about to open his mouth and snap at her to move, the alarm bells went off without his further command. Within moment laughs and merriness had been exchanged to screams and shouts of fear, panic and barked orders. 

Before Cassandra had time to question the elf as to how he had been able to tell they were under attack she instead just watched the elf dart away in the crowd already holding his daggers in hand. He was running the general direction The Iron Bull had been in last. Cassandra collected her confusion then hurried towards the gates to help Cullen, who at this point had already collected his wit as a commander and was already helping people or barking orders at soldiers.

Isala easily found Bull who was ordering the chargers to help where they were needed, lead people to the chantry or stand with the soldiers, their own decision as long as they helped out where they were most needed. The chargers were a fine group of people and Krem lead out to defend the edges of town for as good as they could until everyone was safely in the chantry.

The reason Isala had picked Bull to stay by his side in this was because the Qunari was massive and when it came to many enemies at once Bull just plowed through groups of them as if they were nothing worse than water against rock.

"Bull! I need you, can you see any of the mages?" He needed at least one support mage.

Since bull was almost two heads taller than Isala himself, and at least one head taller than the average human around, Bull would have less difficulties than Isala (who was shorter than most people around Haven) to spot Dorian, Solas or Vivienne. People also tended to move around Bull and not run into him, so if Isala kept close behind he wouldn't have to accidentally be walked into.

They found Dorian and Felix while they were helping some of the few children that had been among the rebel mages to get them safely into the chantry. Felix assured he could do that task on his own and Dorian quickly joined with Isala and Bull to get to the gates while Felix kept on the task of getting the little magelings to safety. 

Cullen was in the middle of giving sort of a status report to Josephine, Leliana and Cassandra when they joined the advisers by the gates. Apparently the army attacking carried no banner so they could impossibly know their motivations as to why they were attacking the village or even who they were. They were broken off by the gates slamming and a voice calling asking them to open the doors. 

Isala dove down the stairs and helped push the doors open. Only to be met by a young man with a ridiculously large hat who just killed off a very large Venatori warrior. Isala looked at the boy quite impressed by the tiny little knife the boy held. He must have known exactly where to place the little blade to take down the Venatori that quick and things like that always impressed him. 

The boy introduced himself as Cole, said he was there to warn them, the elder one was angry because they had stolen his mages. Isala just huffed at that, the mages wasn't HIS mages and he'd fight this elder one for them if he so had to. This elder one wasn't alone either, the templars that he hadn't spoken to were following him loyally in this battle.

The templars he could see from their distance in the enemy army didn't have the usual equipment of the templars that the inquisition templars had. All of them had a red glow to them that was uncanny much like red lyrium. Some of the templars had weapons made of the red lyrium... no that wasn't their weapons, it was their arms, they were made of red lyrium. Isala mortified thought about how painful it must have been to go through, and why anyone would even want to go through it in the first place. 

Him and Cullen made up a quick plan, the trebuchets could be used to create an avalanche to bury the forces that was marching on them. Haven was a poor place for a battle, it was in fact a terrible place for a stance of defense. There was no way out, just into the chantry or out through the army. Their only chance would be to use the trebuchets they had, bury the templars. Then they could take down the ones that still stood on this side of the snow. 

Isala, Bull, Cassandra and Dorian all headed out towards the first trebuchet. Isala let the ancient coiling rage that had ignited in Redcliffe lash out and he shifted between drawing on enemies blood to heal whatever damage was caused to himself and drawing on his enemies fear when the small flurry of angry elf dug his knives into their skin and bathed in their blood.

It didn't take them too long to launch the first trebuchet and cut through all the templars on their way to the second one. Isala had crouched down by some of them to look around at the corpses. The red creatures were humans, or maybe once were humans now infused in red lyrium, their skin grey and corrupted. It must have been painful to become what they now were.  

As they fired off the second trebuchet for a moment it actually looked as if their plan had worked. They had covered the valley in snow and effectively cut the templars short on their march on Haven. The soldiers were cheering victorious, even Isala smirked at the snow that was clouding the valley. Then the shriek came, a loud roar shaking the sky and the very ground they stood. Isala threw himself over the soldier closest to him taking them both down on the ground. The moment after the place they had been standing on was burning and the trebuchet was in little pieces.

The cheers turned to screams of horror as the dragon made it's appearance. Isala got up from the ground, his heart was beating fast, his blood was coiling and his fingers itching. It wasn't the same as a moment ago, or maybe it was, this time though he could feel the rush of rivalry blinding him. There was a dragon in his territory. There ancient fury had him snarling spitting and growling wanting nothing more than to fight the dragon in the sky.

He let out a loud furious slight dragon like cry before setting off chasing after the dragon. But before he could get more than a few steps an arm wrapped around his middle pulling him back, stopping him from his call to drive out the dragon. He felt the ground leave his feet as he was hauled up over Bull's shoulder and carried in an hurried pace the wrong direction.

Isala was snarling furiously while kicking and squirming to get down to the ground. He was screaming at Bull for not letting him down, cursing him and growling to be heard by his rival. The dragon didn't even give him attention even if he knew the other knew he was there and that was even more infuriating.  

Cassandra, who wasn't carrying a kicking screaming elf helped the smith to get his things out of the little house where he kept his special tools. Dorian kept their sides free with magic, trying to figure out a spell to stop the elf from screaming and hissing like a wild animal. The Iron Bull was trying really hard to understand what was up with the strange elf. Not only did he smell like a dragon, this right here, was dragon behavior and it didn't make sense. 

Bull didn't let him down until they were inside the gates and Isala glared at him with hate and murder. He didn't even hear what Cullen was saying, he was so focused on glaring death at Bull and try to locate exactly where the dragon was again to kill it.  

"I Need to fight it!" Isala demanded. "It's not supposed to be here! It need to die I will mark this ground with it's blood so others will know!" He hissed out lounging towards the door again.

Bull simply caught him with an arm across his chest then roughly grabbed his shoulders and turned them face to face. Isala got so shocked he just stared into Bull's eye in confusion. 

"Look big guy! Normally, I am all for that! But there's an army and that is no normal dragon!" Bull growled back at him.

Isala blinked looking up at Bull in utter confusion for a moment. It had been years since he allowed himself to get so lost on those instincts. He swallowed hard and quickly nodded to the Qunari. How many times would the Qunari save his ass by pulling him back to earth when his minds wounded up in other things? How long would it take before the people around him understood how unfit he was to be this high up in an organization that had so many things depending on them? 

"I, yes... I'm sorry. Let's... see if anyone's left in need of help." he said sobering up from the blood frenzy that had just rushed through him. 

They fought more of those red templars that had breached the town as they moved though the village. They found several people stuck in buildings under rubble, just barely managed to pull Flissa out of the burning Tavern before it collapsed at her and sent them all back to the safety. After they had saved the last they all retreated to the chantry. Whatever good that would do, that building didn't look very dragon proof.

Instead they were now all trapped inside the chantry like fish in a barrel. All Isala wanted to do was to get out there and fight that dragon now that no ones life depended on him. He even missed the first of what Cullen said as he was staring intensely at the doors like an attack dog waiting for the order to charge. But his focus returned somewhere around Cole saying that the elder one didn't care about the village, he was there for the herald. 

"Good, I'll fight him and his dragon." He said and glared at the door as if they had offended him and all of his family. "If he want me, he can try to claim me and leave my people alone, I've killed my share of dragons."

"It won't stop him, he want you dead but he will crush them. Kill them anyway. I don't like him." Cole said from under his hat

"You don't like..." Cullen sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose. "There is no tactics to make this survivable. The only thing that could slow them would be another avalanche. If we could turn the remaining trebuchet we could cause one last slide."

Isala looked thoughtful, he knew that meant burying Haven. But at this point it was better than let the dragon and the army have the place. "Bury Haven so they won't get shit out of it after our death you mean?" Isala asked curiously. 

"Yes, we are dying, but we can choose how. Many don't get that choice." Cullen said with a sigh.

Isala was deep in thought when Cole and the Chancellor spoke, only listening to them with half an ear as it was laid out that there was a path of escape for the people. It was clear that they might live, but he wouldn't. He'd more likely be crushed by the snow masses that trebuchet would bring down on him. But to be perfectly honest he didn't feel very bad over that. Truth to be told, he was ready to die. His friends and family for the closest eight years were already dead, it was about time he joined them. 

There was no longer any obligation to the breach, it was closed. This elder one was the problem now and if Isala was lucky, he'd take the bastard down with him in death. Then the world would be fine to move on with him as nothing more than a memory. He was free and he would die free, in a battle for other people's freedom. It was how he had lived for years and how he would die. 

Cullen looked at him after having asked how he was going to get out. Isala just smiled calmly and shook his head. It was time and he wasn't scared. 

* * *

Isala left the chantry on his own. He didn't want to see more people die because of him or close to him really. Also, he wanted to go out as the fog warrior he was if he would have brought his companions they wouldn't have been able to see a rotten shit. He pulled out his last vial of fog and smiled at him. He needed to be seen, cause everyone to turn their eyes into his general direction so they wouldn't go after his people as they escaped. 

He walked out to the middle of the yard outside the chantry. Bright white teeth flashing in a predatory grin as he looked at the templars approaching believing he would make an easy target. He threw the vial in the ground, glass shattered and the fog was instantly eating up the village. Isala didn't waste any time but instead quickly went to work cutting throats and stabbing hearts. He had been a bit concerned he wouldn't make enough noise to draw the dragon's attention but the templars shouting, screeching and screamed were loud enough for the lot of them. 

He carved his way to the trebuchet in blood and lyrium shards. He found a challenge in a behemoth of a templar roaring and flinging lyrium all around him. He had to jump, dodge and slide to get out of it's way and in the end he won by jumping up it's back and without mercy stabbing his daggers in a flurry to the ugly head until the red crystals shattered killing it instantly. 

He quickly aimed the trebuchet with the fog slowly pulling back around him. With no mage that was bound to happen and he had counted on it. He needed stalling until he got the sign that Cullen and the people were out of harms way before he could shoot the thing off, which meant stalling the elder one from flying off attacking them.

A loud screech cut the air and Isala hissed but keeping his instincts from taking him over again. He needed stalling, killing the rivalry dragon would have to wait. The clearing he stood in was invaded by flames and he was thrown back like a rag doll over the ground. He clutched his chest, fairly certain the cracking sound couldn't have been healthy. But he forced himself up on his feet anyway as someone tall walked towards him in the flames. 

The dragon landed on his other side and let out a loud screeching sound then roared into the sky. It made his blood boil hot and angry, blinding his senses for a moment and he took a step towards the dragon letting out a loud furious challenging growl. He gritted his teeth hissing and flexing his fingers taking another demanding step towards the dragon, as if he was in size to fight it. The dragon snapped after him but just out of reach and he growled louder at it. 

"Enough!" A wave of magic pushed through his body and Isala hissed over the sensation of corruption that washed through him. "Pretender, you toy with forces beyond your ken, no more."

Isala growled at the dragon behind him one more time for good measures then turned to glare down the creature in front of him standing in between the both enemies. They both made his skin crawl of different reasons. The dragon because it wasn't supposed to be in his territory, the creature because it felt like pure evil. 

"I pretend nothing. Who are you? What do you want?" He demanded straightening out his back slightly but wished he hadn't because it cause a bolt of flashing pain strike in his chest and his presumably broken rib, but he refused to back down from how he stood now.

"Mortals beg for answers they cannot have. It is beyond what you are, what I was. Know me, know what you have pretended to be. Exult the elder one. The will that is Corypheus. You will kneel."

Magister. That was the only thing popping up in Isala's head. The way he talked, acted and held himself, it sang of magister who got their hands on too much power. But he looked darkspawn and had no sense for fashion and that was not very Tevinter at all. But if this man thought Isala would kneel, magister or not he was sorely mistaken. 

Isala crossed his arms over his chest making a face over the pain but quickly schooled his face to neutral. What he needed was stalling until Cullen signed that he was out of range for the snow masses that would come tumbling down when he would attack the trebuchet. This creature seemed like he loved the sound of his own voice so stalling wouldn't be too hard.

"I will not kneel, not before you nor anyone else. Now tell me why the hell you are here because I don't get it."

"Your understanding is not required, if you gain it, consider yourself blessed. I am here for the anchor, the process of removing it begins now."

As the creature spoke he took out a strange round object that had laid hidden somewhere inside the tattered old robes that barely counted as robes anymore. Most of it seemed to have molded into the creature's skin. The orb adopted a red glow, like the glow that surrounded red lyrium now shrouded around the orb. Then the same kind of red glowed in the darkspawn magisters free hand.

As if feeling left out his own hand began to crackle and protest in an intense piercing pain as if there were little burning shards of metal rasping the insides of his hand under the skin and up his lower arm. Grinding against the bone and shredding his muscles into nothing. Nothing that showed though, all that showed on the outside was the green bright light mixing with red that tried to force it's way through the green unsuccessfully. 

"It is all your fault herald. You interrupted a ritual years in planning, and instead of dying you stole it's purpose." The pain was constantly intensifying and Isala only listened with half an ear. "I do not know how you survived. But what marks you as touched, what you flail at rifts. I crafted to assault the very heavens."

The creature clutched his hand into a closed fist and Isala cried out in the intense wave of pain that washed over him in the act. He fell to the ground without a chance to fight it. The dragon screeched at him again, only on instinct did he manage a growl back in pain. He lost what the creature was saying to him next over the sound of blood and magic rushing inside his head drowning the world out. His mark rejecting the intruding magic, fighting against the corruption in a raging war in his hand.

Slowly the world began to return to him, the pain still intense, eating away his hand, arm and head but it was less than just moments ago. He realized he had stopped breathing sometime as this happened and he greedily took deep gulps of the air filled of magic, fire and dust. It cleared some of his head up, let him formulate words again. 

"What is it meant to do?" He managed to force our through gritted teeth. 

"It is meant to bring certainty where there is none. For you, the certainty that I would always come for it."

Before Isala had time to register what was happening he suddenly hung over the ground with his wrist in the darkspawn magisters grasp. He cried out over the popping crack telling that his shoulder just dislocated itself providing further pain to an arm he was fairly certain was beyond repair by now. All left to do about his arm would be to got the thing off, oh he'd be so pissed if he'd be forced to cut his arm off because of this...

"I once breached the fade in the name of another to serve the old gods and the empire in person. I found only chaos and corruption, dead whispers. For a thousand years I was confused. No more. I have gathered the will to return under no name but my own. To champion with Tevinter to correct this blighted world. Beg that I succeed, because I have seen the throne or the gods, and it was empty."

Isala had enough of grandstanding and his arm was already a wreck. He wrenched himself in a fluid motion, pulling his legs up and shoved them to the darkspawn magister creature's chest. Earning a grunt, a little stumble then he was thrown across the air until his back made painful contact with the trebuchet. His vision went white over the added pain for a moment.

"The anchor is permanent? You have spoiled it with your stumbling."

Isala collected himself enough to hear and see again. Looking back over the treeline he saw the flair of red light. Cullen and the people were out of danger. He was grateful because to be perfectly honest, breathing and moving was getting increasingly difficult by now. He just really hoped he had enough strength to fire off the trebuchet.

"Very well, I shall begin again. Find another way to give this nation the god it requires. And you. I will not suffer even an unknown enemy."

Isala struggled up standing, he wished he hadn't, something was immensely wrong on his left side, breathing was nearly impossible and he spat hoping to clear out the liquid feeling he had in his chest. The ground splattered with blood as he did so and he realized his lung must have been injured. But the people were more important. He still had the very last of him and he let out the second sense he had inside his head and body, just begging to please allow him to see this through.

"Well, if I am dying, you are going down with me!" He growled and kicked the leaver to the trebutchet hard then set off in a half sprint towards the mining shaft.  Not that he understood why, he was a dead man walking. Breathing his very last breaths, but what was inside him refused to give up just yet. 

Just as the snow was chasing his feet he threw himself down and into the hole closing his eyes and curled up as much as he could to save himself from breaking any more bones than he already had. Something hitting his head knocked him out and he hoped by all his heart that this was it. He begged whatever would listen, let this be the end.


	12. 12: The Frostback mountains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more parts are revealed from Isala's past about why he think of the Qunari as bad news. Then he wakes up alone and cold after the attack of Corypheus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter have all kinds of warnings. There is implied torture, very much blood and near death experiences.

**9:31 Dragon -Seheron-**

The strange bas was a mystery to the Viddasala. He had been brought in and strapped down five days earlier and still they knew nothing of the bas more than that it was a male elf that didn't speak Qunlat. At first the bas had been handled by the Vidathiss but the strangeness of the bas, the fact that he spoke no Qunlat and the suspicion of magic had called for higher understanding and Viddasala had been brought in.

The two Beresaad that had brought the bas in had reported on finding him after an attack from the fog rebels, the bas had most likely killed five Tevinters using the fog as cover. One Saarebas and four armed guards with not a scratch to show for it but enough blood dripping from him to tell the tale, the elf had just stood there laughing manically when the Beresaad had gabbed him. 

The Vidathiss had told him how the two Beresaad who had brought the unconscious elf with them here were both acting strangely. They had been wide eyed, twitchy and had seemed reluctant to let the bas go. Vidathiss hadn't understood it at first, one of them had mumbled ataashi and they had been dismissed to get to the infirmary to make sure there was no damage to their heads. 

Not until Vidathiss had strapped the bas to the chair did he understand what had made them act the way they had. The bas smelled heavily of dragon. Not just as if he had fought one and lived but as if a dragon was with them in the room, with the bas, inside the bas, as if the bas was a dragon. Vidathiss had been concerned that it was a saarebas and Viddasala had been brought to make sure of this not to be the case. 

Vidathiss were only re-educators, they handled adult non saarebas males that spoke Qunlat. When it came to foreign languages, magic and oddities the Viddasala was brought in to determine exactly how situations would be handled. Was there a saarebas, bas or not, the Arvaarad would be brought in with the usual equipment and help to hold the saarebas subdue while the Viddasala worked on sewing their lips together. If there was magical objects they destroyed them in a safe way. 

However this elf, was a mystery. They were standing side by side staring at the bas elf strapped and blindfolded to the chair. Viddasala hadn't been able to feel magic in the bas. No matter what they did, there was no mana inside of him trying to reach out. But there was _something_ stirring in the bas that wasn't how the other viddathari elves felt like, but it wasn't magic either, not as in the saarebases.

They had tried speaking to him but when questioned the bas only snarled and hissed at them like a feral beast. At times there was panic in it's features and Viddasala had lost count on how many times the bas had looked as he was about to tell them everything only to instead bite his tongue and steel his features before growling at them dangerously as if the little bas was a real dragon.

The chair the bas was kept in had it's arms, legs and body strapped down with several leather straps and buckles, giving no room for movements. The yellow eyes were covered by black fabric. Bas who did not get to see anything of what happened around them tended to break faster than bas that were allowed to see what happened to them. Since this bas was already a difficult mystery they kept him like this all hours of the day.

They gave him broth three times a day and helped him piss when he needed it but sooner or later this wouldn't hold up. They would have to let him stretch his legs or he would be useless to them when they finally broke him into the Qun. He was clearly a good fighter and would make for a good warrior, but only if he kept his muscles.

The plan was to send him to Par Vollen for higher ranked experts to look him over and get him to talk. The ship taking the elf would come tomorrow they would put a saarebas equipment on him to remain on the safe side, before taking him outside with the cloth over his eyes so he wouldn't be able to see. If he saw he might try to escape instead of a peaceful walk to a ship. They had a special interest in him because of that special scent of dragon and they would prefer not to see him injured or killed quite yet.

"The bas has a strange smell, but he is with no likelihood a saarebas." Viddasala said looking at the bas. "I will travel with him to Par Vollen with an antaam of Arvraad and two Saarebas."

"A ship is waiting him tomorrow after dawn." Vidathiss confirmed. "The antaam will be ready."

"Good."

Viddasala crossed his arms over his chest and looked at the bas in silence. He was having another of his panicked expressions in his face again. Vidathiss walked closer and grabbed the bas by his jawbone, easily finding the edges. In time everyone broke, it was just a matter of knowing where to apply pressure And the right use of saar-quamek.

However that would not initiate until they were back in Par Vollen. First Viddasala wanted to know who and what this bas was and if they could get him to submit under the Qun willingly. It would be a waste to reduce a potential warrior to a laborer, but the Qun was clear if they could not make this bas submit they would have no other choice.

Pulchra felt the tight squeeze to the edges of his jawbones and gave up a whimper, it was painful and during the time he had been sitting in this chair (he had lost count on days and nights, perhaps it had been weeks, perhaps just hours) he had learned just how painful it was if fingers pressed hard where they were now resting.

He wanted to tell them what it was they wanted to know. He wished he could do it, but he didn't know it himself yet. Not that it truly mattered, he couldn't make any words on his own. Every time he tried his blood felt as if it was on fire and a stirring in his head refused him access to his own  vocal cords, refused to let him say anything to his captors unless it was hostile. 

At times he was able to give up squeaky little noises, begging whimpers or painful shouts. But nothing more. He wanted to beg them to stop hurting him, stop touching his already tender skin. He wanted to scream of the top of his lungs to make them stop but that was only allowed by the stirrings in his head if the pain was beyond what either of them could endure.

Whatever it was that his master had done to him that day in the clearing, it had changed him, added something into his body. That was the reason he had grabbed the knife when the fog had devoured him. The reason he had slid silvertrite knives over dark skin coloring his hands and blades with the blood. He had killed his master then his masters guards. The voice in his head had sung to him about freedom, about open skies, high mountains and deep seas had whispered to him it could be his if he killed the one who enslaved him, and Pulchra had listened.

He was possessed. He was sure of it, his master had put a demon inside him and that had been master Tarsicius death. But whenever that thought came up he heard himself hiss out loud in annoyance before the other consciousness in his head snapped at him that it was no demon and that it wasn't happier about the situation than the elf himself was.

Right now both of the parts in his head was unified in their focusing in on the Qunari fingers squeezing his jawbones. Pulchra internally begging to let it stop, just to speak to the Qunari, do what they wanted him to do. Instead he just steeled his features and breathed calmly as if this wasn't going to end with him getting killed.

"Explain yourself. What are you and how do you smell of a dragon?"

"Fuck off." 

The other side of him twisted their head and snapped after the Qunari with his strange new sharp teeth, managing to graze the skin of the giant's hand bloody and the Qunari cursed slapping him across the face. Pulchra winced but heard himself laugh a threatening cold laugh that didn't fit the situation at all. 

"You will submit to the Qun. In time basra."

"I submit to no one." He hissed back.

That earned him fingers around his neck, fingers he couldn't escape. All he could do was hissing, snarling and gurgle before slowly things went even more dark around him and dizziness fogged up his minds into a confused jumble. Once he had been frightened of the dark, but the new part of him embraced it like an old friend and that was oddly relaxing, something Pulcra relished in.

A last blissful sigh before his body sagged under the Qunari fingers and he fell unconscious.

* * *

  **9:41 Dragon -Somewhere in the Frostback mountains-**

When he woke up again it was to a light drip, drip, drip somewhere in the room, he assumed it was a room, the echo suggested as much. He was happy he didn't need to take a piss because that sound wold have given him a hard time to keep it in long enough to get his breeches down if he had needed it. He realized he wasn't actually breathing and parted his lips to gasp for air only to choke on something hot and thick in his mouth. He coughed and spluttered making whatever was in his mouth clog down disgustingly over his cheeks into his hair.

Coughing was painful and there was a pressure dulling over or maybe in his chest. But when his mouth was clear of the hot metallic liquid, he managed to chip for enough air not to choke to death entirely. His first thought when he had managed to create a shallow ragged breathing pattern was that there must be something heavy over his chest. But glancing down he only saw his own shallow breaths moving his chest up and down.

The cold was the only thing that kept his body from screaming of the pain he undoubtedly were in. He spluttered out some more of the goo that seemed to come from his throat somewhere. He was too exhausted to find out what exactly it was and his brain couldn't make it out either, he just knew it was metallic and too thick for water and he let a large amount of it dribble out over his cheeks and chin again. 

He was in desperate need of a healer, his body rapidly failing and breathing was getting harder. Darkness had always been so inviting to him though, the last decade at least. And it made things so silent around him, so peaceful. He would probably see Tenek, Orchid, Septimus, Rowena an Keelah again soon. He was ready for that, he had missed them terribly. 

\---

The second time he woke up he had frozen tears in the edges of his eyes and it was too hard to fight them open so he just remained blind in whatever room he was in. He had woken back up by the pain in his left hand, it was unbearable and if his throat and mouth hadn't clogged up with the goo he'd be screaming.

Instead he just gurgled and let more hot liquid roll out over his lips and cover his lower face. He didn't know why but he imagined it was something black leaking out from his lungs up his mouth like a poison. How was he nor dead yet? His breathing was next to nothing and he could feel the too slow rhythm of his heart telling him 'not long now.' He ignored the pain in his hand as best as he could coughing out more liquid before relaxing again.

_'make it stop'_ He thought tiredly.  ** _'Do not give up so easily. Get up.'_** A voice answered in his head but he ignored it, he was too tired to care, to tired to listen to the predatory instinct speaking to him in his own head. He let the dripping lull him back asleep.

\--- 

The third time he knew exactly what woke him up before even waking up. A stir in his subconscious, a whisper pushing at his senses then demanding him to move his right hand. He let out a broken growl and slowly let the stirring whisper abuse his dying body as it felt fit, he had learned when to tryst it, when to ignore it and when to give himself over to it entirely. 

He felt his own cold fingers search over cold glass by his left hip, he felt the skin burst as it stroke over a broken shard too hard and blood flowed hot leaving his fingers just slightly colder. He had to force the metallic tasting vile goo dibble out of his mouth to force in a broken breath. His left hand hurt too much for him to even care about the pain that a cut should have given him. He kept searching blindly for something he didn't know what it was and it took a long while before he grasped onto a single vial. 

_**'Unbroken.'**_  The voice whispered **_'drink'_**. Was the next command and with heavy hand he pulled the vial to his lips and parted them, dribbling out liquids from his mouth one last time before letting the taste of elfroot wash away the rest of the metallic taste in his mouth and throat. He groaned loudly as his broken body protested and he closed his eyes yet again, maybe this time he'd be allowed to sleep.

\---

The fourth time he woke up he could breath again. Delicious cold mountain air rushed into his lungs and filled him with a clearness hard to describe to anyone who hadn't been in his situation before. His mouth tasted of blood and elfroot and he wondered how he had even survived at all with a broken lung. It took some rubbing of his eyes before he tiredly could open them to look at the roof. He still heard the dripping sound and he tilted his head to locate where from the sound came.

It wasn't far from his head actually so he craned his neck slightly to let his lips under the dripping. Ice cold drops of lovely fresh water dripped down in his mouth and slipped down his throat. He gave a small delighted squeaky sound over the cold water. A sound that other people would have associated with a dragonlings squeaking sound.

_**'Sit up'**  _the voice in his head ordered after he had got himself enough of the dripping water. This time he didn't argue much, he groaned out his complaints but knew that in a state like this there was no point in arguing what kept him alive.  _' **Rub your legs.'**  _The voice commanded. _'Bloody bossy'_  he thought back as he rolled his eyes. In reply for his remark a slight annoyed sound involuntarily left his lips from the predatory side of him 

He gently began rubbing feeling back into his legs with hisses and cursing over what he felt. His legs had been fairly okay when he barely even felt them because of the cold numbness. But now they were aching painfully and throbbing under every touch from his fingers but he knew he had to continue if he wanted to keep his limbs. Which he did, he happened to need them, a lot.

He quickly began to rub his feet and toes, pressing and squeezing the pressure points underneath them and wished that he had worn shoes. But no, he had to insist on not wearing boots because he was used to Seheron's heated jungles. He cursed as he got life back in his feet enough to wiggle his toes without them falling off.

_**'Get up, you need heat or we'll both die.'**  _He sighed and slowly got up. The left arm was reminded just how much pain it was radiating and he cried out his pain pulling the arm safely against his chest. Not that it was the only thing aching. His ribs, lungs and legs felt horrible as well, the only thing keeping him from tripping over in pain was that elfroot potion and the cold that suppressed a lot of feeling in his body. Of course it was also freezing him slowly to death as well so he would need to find heat, and soon.

"Death had been a mercy." He growled as he made his slow way forwards in the icy halls. This must have been part of the old Haven, laying underneath the new Haven structures. Well, Haven was probably gone by now under all the snow. It was sad he hadn't pulled Corypheus with him in the snow. Wherever the darkspawn creature were, he hoped he was at least three times as miserable as he was himself.

_**'Stop whining, move.'**_ Isala groaned loudly _'did you ever hear about a little thing called compassion?'_ He wondered silently as he walked through the poorly lit tunnels. _**'Demons.'**_ That wasn't much of a heads up and only moments later he stumbled on said demons. He must be in a really bad shape for demons to just have been able to appear without him noticing long ago.

His marked hand flared up and as of instinct he reached out trying to close the nonexistent rift that he associated with demons. Instead of closing one he drew from the fade and sucked the despair demons back into the fade where they belonged then the green in the air imploded on itself without his fighting skills required. Even if he had preferred using his knifes since the thing the mark had done made it feel like if he grabbed a large hammer and smashed repeatedly over his hand and arm until the bones was just splinters and were now trying to tear out of him in all directions.

Not that he had time to just stay there and reflect over it. He had to get heat and he needed it soon. His eyes were already drooping and soon he'd begin to stumble again. Just because he had taken an elfroot potion didn't mean that his lung was what it once were. More likely his ribs were still broken and there was a possibility that they'd just tear the injury back open and he'd begin splutter out blood once again.

Outside the cave the wind was howling and snow was blocking pretty much everything from even his sharp view. He could barely make out shapes in the whipping snow. His fog at least wasn't this cold and not as impossible to see in. **_'You can't stay, move. Head east.'_**  He took some deep breaths to push away the pain before he began moving slowly following the direction of what he was told was east. 

He wish he would have boots once again. He wish he would have one of those long leather coats with sleeves. If he survived this, he'd ask Harritt to make him one. He could go and kill some wyverns or something and he'd get nice and proper wyvern scales, or if he could drag them all dragon hunting. But he doubted he'd get anyone to join him, except for Bull and possibly Sera, but maybe the three of them would be enough to take down a drake at least. 

He shivered and smoke came from his mouth and he tried not to think too much about how cold he was getting.  _'Warm thoughts, give me warm thoughts, Seheron, Dragons, Fire, bedrolls, Tenek... Fuck'_ Great now he was cold and depressed thinking about his dead family.  ** _'We do not have time for this, move slightly more to the east.'_   **To the east. He could follow orders on where to go without it hurting him with bad memories.

It felt like hours before he reached trees, a campfire that was long cold but recent enough to be in the wastelands of nothing where Haven had once been and not snowed over. That gave him the glimmer of hope and he trudged on defiantly through the snow. He wished he was a mage, he'd not have to be this bloody cold or injured if he was a mage, he could have just magicked away his problems and he'd have a staff to lean on.

As he continued walking he saw two mountainsides that would give a promising shelter from at least the wind. That was also when he began hearing loud howling from wolves and he began laughing while fighting the snow. Laughing had been a bad decision because his broken rib must have scraped his lung again. He spat out a small amount of blood.

"Fuck! if I dragged myself from death to be eaten by wolves I will be so pissed!" 

He was cackling as he made his way forwards which was not a help. it was more painful than ever and he was soon spitting up more  blood which rather effectively silenced him. Or rather his voice was taken out of use and he didn't argue it at all. Another campfire, one with embers still glowing had made his hopes rise for a rescue.

The snow was up over his knees and he wondered how he had even managed to walk this far in his state. That's when he saw the lights of a very large camp. He nearly began crying because if that wasn't the best thing he'd seen in years he didn't know what was.

"There! It's him!"

"Thank the maker!" 

Isala actually laughed again, hysterically as he sank to his knees. Cullen and Cassandra was by his side instantly, Cullen wrapping his arm around his side to help him back up. Cassandra on the other side. He spat out blood that had flooded into his mouth again over his hysteric laughter, or rather it dribbled over his chin over his chest mixing with the rest of the blood. 

When they were moving halfway down to the camp his laughter had slowly his ebbed out, too much blood and too much pain made it impossible. The blood loss and finally being able to relax and let Cullen and Cassandra drag him was making his head hazy and all he could thing about was that he needed Orchid. She could fix him, she could fix anything. 

"I'd kiss you both but I think that'd be gross, cause blood isn't sexy." He grunted and snorted amused. "I think my rib is scraping my lungs open, one potion didn't heal it good enough." 

"Makers breath, how are you even standing." Cullen mumbled shocked.

Blood was something he was beginning to run dangerously low on and his brain was getting more and more hazy and confused. Not only due to the blood loss mind you, it was the pain coursing through his body, the cold around and inside him, the fact that breathing was again slowly getting more difficult and all broken bones.

Cullen and Cassandra was quickly followed by Sera, Dorian and Bull through the camp and into one of the larger tents with cots in. As soon as they got the elf on his back on one Dorian began to cast a soothing heat spell into the elf. Mage fingers delicately laying on the elf's temples. The sepll had to be slow, going too fast would possibly put the elf's body in shock. 

Isala groaned and pressed his head towards the fingers that was making him warm again and giggle slightly making more blood gush out of his mouth. There was other hands on him too, slowly washing magic inside him. Magic, not Orchid's magic, wrong magic.

He tensed over the realization both magics were wrong, neither was orchid  ** _'Run!'_  **Isala gasped shocked and flung up from the cot trying to aim for the exit. A shout from a woman and loud voices telling him 'No!' then an arm around his waist forcing him back on the cot. He wouldn't go down, he was free no mage would get him again. 

Luckily for the rest of them, as well as for the elf, Bull had managed to grab the elf before he had time to hurt himself worse. In the process he had got his shoulder and part of his chest smeared with blood. The healer began to cry out orders on keeping the surprisingly strong trashing elf down on the cot so he wouldn't trash around. 

Dorian grabbed his head again forcing in soothing heat magic where his spell had been interrupted knowing that if the elf lost the heat he had managed to get up even in that short time, that could be just as bad. Cullen pressed down the heralds shoulders, Sera literary pounced his legs and laid flat on her stomach on them and Cassandra was keeping down his arms. It was difficult since neither of them could hold down his chest in risk of breaking things worse than before. 

"No! No, no, no, no, no! Stop master Tarsicius stop! I will be good! I am sorry! Please it hurts. I didn't mean to!"

The elf began to cry out in Tevene to everyone's relief except for Dorian's who began to pale over the words spewing out of the elf's mouth. Bull wondered what exactly the elf was screaming but wasn't certain he wanted to hear it. The short time he had spent with Dorian he knew that the vint seemed to be a good man but not the kind of man to pale at small things. 

And he was right about both those things. When the elf didn't get a response to the Tevene he hopped over to Qunlat, the accent was strangely enough Par Vollen and not Seheron and the things he screamed was making it very clear that he had met Ben-Hassrath agents before. The weariness the elf showed around him was beginning to make a lot more sense to him now. 

The elf kept switching between Tevene and Qunlat screaming out until he passed out of exhaustion and a small spell from Dorian that would just nudge him to sleep as the healer worked. And the woman worked fast, too fast. Sera was handing her several of Dorian's lyrium potions when the elf had passed out just for the woman to keep up with her own healing magic into the almost completely broken elf. 

It took about two hours before the healer was done and she would have fallen over by exhaustion if Krem hadn't caught her and helped her down on another cot then sat silently handing her some bread. The rest of them just sat own where it was space except for Dorian who was still working his slow heat magic into the now limp elf's body. 

Bull slid down to the ground and leaned heavily against two crates behind him. Varric left for a while but came back with his own bag and Dorian's fishing up another lyrium potion for the mage before he sat down beside Bull. Sera sat down on the cot with Isala and propped his feet into her lab and began helping in her own way by rubbing his legs and feet.

All they could do now was to wait for the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there is a question on how much blood Isala can spit up, please do remember that there is something strange with this elf. He is not like others and can survive some things that could and should have been direct fatal for anybody else.


	13. 13: The frostback mountains (part2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isala wakes up, people sing and Bull is very warm and comfortable.

**9:41 Dragon -Somewhere in the Frostback mountains-**

None of them spoke for hours. They all just sat there in the tent, trying not to worry, the healer had said Isala would live. The elf apparently had remarkable healing abilities, the kind the healer had never seen before. The injury that would be fatal for anyone else within ten minutes the elf had marched with through snow for maker knows how many hours.

The healer had left to tend to other wounded when she was certain that the herald was stable. Cullen and Cassandra had left trying to figure out their next move and where to go now. However neither Varric, Bull, Sera, Dorian or Krem were quite ready to leave their _"e_ _lfy herald whatever's"_ side, as Sera had put it.

Sera and Dorian had shifted Isala once the healer had left, so Dorian could sit on the cot with his legs crossed and the elf's head rested in his lap for the magic to flow freely between them without being too tiresome on the Altus. 

Sera was still sitting by his feet rubbing them and his lower legs so he'd get warm again. Varric suspected she just needed to do something with her hands, everyone knew that Sera and Isala were very close. They ways they joked, teased and cuddled were like if they were long lost siblings. This whole thing had hit her the hardest, or maybe she was the only one who expressed it so clearly.

Felix had come into the tent at one point with food for them, helped Dorian to a lyrium potion and left a cookie in the unconscious elf's hand. Dorian smiled amused and Felix shrugged declaring the elf had a sweet tooth. Varric had guessed as much, all the poisons the crazy elf made smelled of something sweet, all the times he saw the elf chew on something it was something sweet. Where on this maker forsaken place he got all cookies from Varric couldn't guess, for what he knew they hadn't had any bakers in Haven, but he supposed he could be wrong. 

Not that he was surprised though, that seemed to be a theme for mysterious elves. Maker knew Hawke had given Fenris enough fruit tarts and sweets whenever trying to bribe that elf into following to help mages, not to kill Anders, or whenever Hawke did anything stupid and wanted the elf to forgive him. Maybe he'd follow Hawke's (and apparently Felix's) examples and carry around cookies for elven emergencies. 

"He's a stupid face! Shouldn't have gone alone, 'was a dragon an' a loot of snow out there. Stupid face!" Sera said more hurt than actually angry.

"He'll be fine Sera." Dorian said gently. "He's a tough elf, just look at his past." Dorian said encouraging. 

"Well the thing is we don't  _know_ about his past. Just bits and pieces." Varric pointed out. 

Varric was sitting half leaning against Iron Bull and half against a crate (The tent wasn't overly huge and space was limited). A quill and parchment rested in his lap, just making dabbles on what might have happened between their crazy elf and the archdemon. He knew they most likely would get the true story when the elf woke up but Varric wasn't without concern and worry himself. Like Sera he needed something to occupy himself with so he wouldn't go crazy.

"He escaped a magister, a magister of high rank and skill I may add. He must have spent quite some time at Seheron for speaking all that Qunlat. Which means he was close enough to Tal-Vashoth or Qunari to learn the language. He has several scars and no small amount of skill which mean he has seen battle, is that not enough to know about his past?" Dorian asked. 

"What did he speak'bout when he talked all jibberish?" Sera asked curiously. 

"No. I will not repeat it." Dorian said paling up slightly shaking his head. 

Sera frowned and looked at Bull who just shook his head. There was no way the warrior would tell them about the Qunlat that had been screamed, they really didn't want to know about it. He didn't want to actually know that, and he knew since before what the re-educators did back there. He had no idea how this elf was still not part of the Qun, he must have been lucky and managed to escape quickly before they had broken him down entirely then slowly pulled himself back up.

And that was another question mark. People didn't just escape the re-educators cells. There was just one way out, and that was the one leading through the Qun, productive part or a laborer. And this elf was not part of the Qun. Though it would explain why he didn't want his name or appearance mentioned in reports back to Par Vollen. An elf that smelled like a dragon wouldn't just be left off the hook for long. 

"What do  you people all say about 'And he cut through the enemy templars like a flurry of rage with no other thought than conquest'" Varric said thoughtfully as he looked down at the page in his lap.

"I'd go more like. _'He saw the fucking dragon and wanted it off his lawn'_ " Isala grunted from Dorian's lap "Fuck, Dorian never stop doing that." He mumbled with a yawn. 

Sera squealed and Dorian jumped a little startled. Isala grinned slightly, he had woken up when Dorian had put a bit more force in the spell than meant to as he turned Sera down for some reason that he had missed. Sera's entire weight flopped over his lower body as she fell on him hugging him and he gasped. He was healed yes but he was still bruised on both the inside and the outside from the extent of all injuries.

"Sera please don't kill me, I survived a dragon, a darkspawn magister and a landslide falling on me, I'd be pissed if I died because crazy elf crushed me and I'll haunt you forever." He warned her tiredly.

"You stupid face! Why did you go alone!" She demanded but loosened up the slightest anyway.

Isala smiled tiredly but closed his eyes again. He had been out cold for possibly hours, but he still felt like sleeping another decade or so. Sera wiggled up beside him on the cot and put her head in Dorian's lap too. He'd might be uncomfortable with that if it wasn't for the fact that he was so used in sleeping huddled up with Tenek, Orchid and Septimus at all times. Keelah and Rowena usually enjoyed to find some solace in sleeping alone but never far away. 

Isala on the other hand, he had always loved to cuddle up to his companions. It made him feel less alone and more safe. Especially when it came to horned giants, they were special when it came to feeling safe. He missed that a lot, so Sera so close and his head in Dorian's lap wasn't unwelcome. He leaned in and nuzzled his nose playfully against Sera who giggled and did the same back.

"How positively nauseating of you both, please stop." Dorian teased and Isala chuckled.

"Oy! I get to cause he ain't dead yeah. You had his face all the time now's my turn." Sera complained loudly.

"Awh, can't you two share nice?" Varric teased. "I'm sure he's elf enough for the both of you.

"Tell us 'bout the dragon and why you were a stupid face and went after it alone" Sera said and poked him in the chest.

"I will, if someone get me Leliana because I don't wanna tell it twice as she's going to want to hear it and my throat is more raw than the time me and my friend wanted to see if ginger oil made swallowing down cocks easier, it don't, just burns and leaves your voice raw for days." He informed them. Not that it hadn't been a fun night though. 

Sera laughed loudly with Bull and Krem. Dorian chuckled amused but looked as if he had an idea he now needed to try out. Varric snorted as he got up to find red. If anyone would wake up from near death and start to joking about it was their odd elf. Or Hawke, as he had after getting impaled by the Arishok and Anders had to work on him for hours. Maker, the two of them meeting... that would be something worth writing a book about... he would need to send a couple of letters.

* * *

Mother Giselle had initiated the singing, the people had followed. It was song about their maker or Andraste or... something like that. But people had looked to him, several of their soldiers had placed their hands over their chests in respect. Some people had even got down knee. It had been directed towards him, they saw him as hope, like the one who could grant miracles. He had stood silently, blood still dried in his face and on his clothes as he just watched.

He didn't know the song, had never been part of a chantry, and he wasn't sure he liked where it was leading. He wasn't a hero, he was a rebel who did his best to free Seheron from the Qunari and Tevinter. He worked from the shadows, together with his people. He wasn't some holy symbol. Giselle had spoken about things as such, that the people had seen him fall then rise back from the ashes and that he was hope. 

But he hadn't. Not really, he hadn't died, he should have died but he hadn't. The reason he had survived wasn't divine intervention. The reason he didn't die was because of the dragon instincts that ran deep and hot through his veins. He stood there because he was not alone in his body, because there was something more inside him and no divine power had put it there. Not that he could tell anyone, he doubted they'd be very overseeing with what he was.

When they were done singing, Solas had asked to speak to him. He had excused himself from Giselle and quickly followed Solas seeing it as a rescue. The bald elf had information, the orb Corypheus had carried, it had once belonged to the elvhen people of old. Isala knew that the moment that information came out, people would blame all elves for what happened.

Even if elves today have nothing to do with the elves back then and that Corypheus most likely was a magister that stole the artifact from the ancient elves. They would see the power the orb contained and claim that all elves had hidden powers that was a danger to every other race. But that was for a later date, Corypheus was the pressing danger, they had to take him down first. 

Solas told him about a place their people could go. The inquisition needed a place to thrive, to grow and there was a fortress to the north that could hold them. Isala didn't ask but he wondered how Solas knew about it. If he asked the other elf would tell him that he had seen it in the fade but Isala was having his suspicions, there was something about Solas, an ancient presence, he was fairly sure Solas knew that Isala wasn't just an elf either, but they respected each other enough not to ask of the reason behind hiding it. 

After his little chat with Solas he walked over to his little inner circle and sat down beside Sera leaning to her for warmth. Not that the other elf was too happy about it as she pushed him away with a loud screech.

"Eww Isala you have blood all over. Now's all over me!" She complained loudly.

Isala snorted and pulled away from her "You try surviving crazy people, dragons and snow then come out clean and smelling like a flower." He teased grabbing some snow as he began trying to clean his face with it, probably failing miserably, he'd need to scrub it away with soap if he wanted it out of his hair. 

"No, I ain't a stupid face like you." She said gladly. "Varric tell us some bullshit story to keep us warm" She asked the storyteller.

Isala snorted and curled up a little on himself still wishing he had a jacket, or shoes or anything warming. Varric began telling them about some adventure he'd been on with Hawke in a mine called the bone pit. Isala began rubbing his feet while listening trying to make feeling come back in his toes. There fire between them was nice but he really missed Dorian's heat spell. 

"Alright big guy give me your footsies before you loose them." Bull said after a while with a little laugh and patted his own lap.

Isala looked confused at Bull and down at his lap. The ox-man didn't even have a shirt, he should be freezing, but Isala knew how hot blooded their race was and he sighed shuffling closer throwing his legs into his lap resting his feet against Bull's inner thigh. He hummed over the change of heat and sighed content when the heat of the Qunari hands took one  of his feet and began massaging it comfortably. Isala just leaned against Bull's muscular arm and closed his eyes. 

Varric's voice that was still telling his tale turned into some kind of background noise lulling Isala into a comfortable relaxed state while Bull was working him into a puddle. He kept his eyes closed and rested his cheek to Bulls bicep, and fuck, he had nice arms. He really really hoped he wasn't purring because that would be embarrassing, but he wouldn't be surprised if he did. His ears was without a doubt perked slightly forwards as he was very comfortable. 

Bull glanced down at the elf who indeed was purring quietly. Not loud enough to the others to hear but he could feel the vibrations against is arm. The scent of dragon was intoxicating especially this close and all the blood on him seemed to amplify the scent. However the knowledge that the blood was the elf's blood made something protective stir inside the Qunari's body, something he hadn't felt before and it confused him.

Which in itself confused Bull even more. Things had a long time ago stopped confuse him about his own body. He had things worked down to systems, because systems were comfortable and something he was used to. Yet now, around Isala his body did things, reacted strangely. Had he been at Par Vollen he would have reported to a tamassran for help to figure it out. Now, he could only guess it was because the elf smelled like a dragon.

It constantly took a lot of his discipline not to pull the elf close, just to breath him. Right now it took all it had for him not to pull him safely up in his lap and smell his hair. The first day they had met at the storm coast Isala had clearly expressed the dragon smelling subject was not up for question and was not an impulse Bull was allowed to follow up on.

Though that the elf had dragon in him was not up for argue. The way he acted when Haven was attacked by another dragon, the way he smelled, the noises he did now and then, those were very dragony. The question was how the elf was part dragon, it simply didn't make any sense. Yet. Iron Bull had all intentions to find that out.

Isla wiggled closer to Bull, probably to get more of his legs and chest into the heat of Bull's body. That however  was a bit to much and the Qunari gently pulled him up his lap, giving free room for the elf to refuse and back off, it was what he had expected. But Isala didn't, instead he allowed it, poor guy gotta be real cold. He was aware that the others of their group now and then sent curious glances but he ignored it for now, he had something entirely more interesting in his lap. 

Isala squirmed when Bull pulled him up in his lap then crossed his legs and shifted to find a comfortable way to sit. He found it after some wiggling about by leaning his back against Bull's chest and crossed his arms over his own chest smiling as he looked at the fire and listened as Varric was making an impression of some poor mine workers who had stumbled on a dragon nest.

Bull was more defined in muscles than Tenek, but Tenek must definitely be taller than Bull. Isala wasn't surprised to find Bull already hard against him, his scent did that to their race, he scolded his minds for trying to figure out the size difference between Bull and Tenek in their pants and just relaxed as large Qunari arms wrapped around him protective. 

To be honest he felt safe, something about the protectiveness of the Qunari race always made him feel safe and he didn't even notice when he slipped into a much needed, and well earned sleep.

 


	14. 14: Skyhold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The inquisition is now housed at Skyhold. Isala has a brand new title and Bull get a proper smell of the dragon smelling elf and learn some new wicked things the inquisitor can do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you may have noticed this chapter was up earlier today. That was me accidentally posting my draft! My sincerest apologizes for that mishap! But here comes the real chapter!

**9:41 Dragon -Skyhold-**

"Give me a report on where we stand." 

Isala stood leaned against the war table by one hand, looking over all the little inquisition mission markers scattered across the map over Ferelden and Orlais. In his free hand he was holding Leliana's, Josephine's and Cullen's mission markers trying to figure out what people to send and where. He put Leliana's down over Kirkwall. Varric had requested them to look up on something and Leliana's agents seemed as the best choice. Josephine's marker was placed over Tevinter over one of Dorian's requests but he held Cullen's marker hesitant over where to place it. There was several things needed to be done and he wondered what was most urgent

"We are in a much better position to defend ourselves would the enemy attack us here, than we ever were in Haven. The barracks we are putting up down in the valley makes the soldiers feel cared for and raises their morale and willingness to fight for the inquisition." Cullen reported. 

Which was precisely the reason Isala had asked for barracks to be built for their troops instead of the tents their soldiers had first slept in when they came there. Isala might prefer to sleep in tents or in caves but the inquisition soldiers didn't. Especially not in the cold snowy landscape outside Skyhold. 

"There is also a boost in morale from our people ever since you stepped up as inquisitor. They see you, an elf rising so far and they believe it must be by Andraste's hand. No don't look at me like that." Leliana laughed lightly over the look Isala gave her. "We know you do not believe, but their faith is high and that is what matters as of right now." 

Isala rolled his eyes at her. He didn't like to be called the herald of Andraste, from day one he had ignored the people calling him as such and he would continue to do so until they called him Isala or Shadow. The mark on his hand was not a divine intervention, it was another crazy magister making modifications to his body that he hadn't approved. He refused to believe that was the will of any god. But it worked for the people and it wasn't his to take their from them he supposed. 

"We have gained a number of noble allies from closing the breach, even more for stopping the templar and mage onslaught in the hinterlands. I would suggest that you reel in more nobles and favors if you travel outside of Skyhold. There is a man named Fairbanks wishing to speak to you in the emerald graves, and Crestwood is having troubles with undead." 

He put down Cullen's little marker over the Hinterlands. The farms needed watchtowers against bandits and Cullen's new recruits could use that as a bonding exercise. It was also a requirement from Dennett if they wanted his horses for the inquisition. The wolves he had already dealt with so it was just the towers left. 

"Leliana, send a bird to the blades of Hessarian, ask them about these sightings of darkspawn on the coast and ask them to localize where the darkspawn come from. Josephine send word to Fairbanks that I will meet with him before the month is over and someone have scout Harding check up on Crestwood and set up a base camp, I'll deal with the undead as soon as I can." Isala said determined.

It was still hard being the leader, to be the one in charge of so many people. Every time he made a decision it would affect a lot of people, it was unnerving how a marker on a map could change the life on so many people and all he could do was hoping that he did the right decisions.

The whole thing wasn't helped by the fact that he hadn't slept properly since Haven. It wasn't because of the archdemon or Corypheus. It wasn't even this whole new responsibility thing that kept him awake. No it was because he had been given a room with way too much space, a too large bed and he constantly felt alone. Once every third hour or less he'd wake up confused, cold and with a feeling of abandonment that was entirely illogical. 

Well, perhaps not entirely illogical. Isala was used to sleeping in a pile with Tenek, Orchid and Septimus or as he had at Haven huddled close together with Sera. The nights on their way to Skyhold had been spent huddled up with Bull in his lap. Now he was all of a sudden sleeping alone, it was a big change and not one to the better. Not that he wanted to tell anyone. Everyone seemed content with their new arrangements here in Skyhold.

"Of course inquisitor." Leliana said and nodded.

"There is the matter of decorations as well. It is important in how our allies will see us, see you, in what banners, heraldry and furnishing you have and how they represent you." Josephine said flipping through some pages on her usual writing board.

Isala sighed deeply. He had been pushing this forwards for days now. He didn't know these things. He had never decorated a keep before. Hell, he hadn't even had a room of his own before, much less a decorated one. It had never been his job to decorate his former masters homes, he was the pretty treasure that did better on display pouring wine at dinners and impress guests.

"Dragons." He said and shrugged.

"Dragons?" Josephine asked confused

"You want it to represent me. All I can think of is dragons. Now if you excuse me, I intend to hide from the world rest of the day."

He had already began backing out towards the door and as he spoke and when he sad the last words he quickly fled out through the door and made a dash through the corridor. He didn't think they'd stop him but hey he'd been wrong before. When he was in Josephine's office he threw a shadow cloak around himself before he opened the door out to the main hall as little as possible so no one would notice him sneaking out.

It was easy enough to not accidentally knock into anyone on his way to the open doors leading out of the keep. Sure if he would walk into someone he'd just fade through them while he had his shadow cloak on, but they would notice it. There was a slight breeze then the feeling of something sliding through their bodies, like a ghost. It wasn't very pleasant and without a doubt the nobles in the room would begin to scream loudly if he they felt it believing him to be a ghost or something.

Crossing the courtyard and into the heralds rest wasn't very hard either. Usually the hard part was to remain hidden away from Leliana's agents or just people around Skyhold once the shadow cloak was gone. His dreadlocks, the yellow eyes and tattoos tended to stick out in a crowd. He let the cloak fall into a dark mist and reveal him by the bar where he sat down on a chair with a deep sigh.  

People were used by now by the elf suddenly appearing out of dark mist like some sort of nightmare. It had required a templar and another rouge to show people it wasn't dark magic at all but a stealth trick before people had stopped being suspicious about it. He smiled at the dwarf as usual (no idea to piss off the guy with the alcohol) and just ordered anything that could make his head at least buzzing then dropped his head tiredly to the bench closing his eyes. He guessed he had about ten minutes before Josephine would be by his side again trying to get him to choose the decor.

He heard someone heavy drop down in the chair beside his and he opened one eye to peer up at Iron Bull who had joined him. There was a silent question in the Qunari's eye and he moved his had dismissive shaking his head. "No, I don't want to talk about it. I'm hiding, probably have some minutes before Josephine hounds me about the decor again. Saying dragon just won't cut it for her." 

Bull laughed but the concern never really entirely leaving his face and Isala sighed grabbing his drink swallowing half at once and shivered making a face over the vile swill he had just drank.

"Hmm. I think I know a place that'd suit you." Bull said with a little chuckle.

Isala looked at the Qunari with interest. If Bull knew a spot where an entire horned giant could hide it was worth a shot so he  nodded. Bull chuckled lightly and got up from his chair, moving up the stairs. Isala took some seconds before he quickly decided to actually follow him. He doubted Bull was about to knock him over the head and drag him to the Qun, even if this was the first time he'd been alone with the other man.

Bull lead him out to the battlements and to one of the towers there. The room could possibly have passed for abandoned if it hadn't smelled so strongly of the Qunari. There was still rubble, old barrels, dust and a plant climbing the wall. The only thing that looked well used was the bed that had an ax lodged into it by the foot end of it.

Bull moved over and sat down on the bed leaning against the headboard and Isala went on with exploring. There was a couple of empty bottles, some odds and ends that must have belonged to the old owners of Skyhold. A fine layer of dust on the fireplace told that it hadn't been used in a long while. Isala slowly stroke his fingers over the fireplace, then over some of the leafs from the plant climbing the wall then slowly over the edge of the bed and over the shaft of the ax.

Bull sat on the bed watching the elf in silence allowing the little guy to do his thing. He had seen this a couple of times before, Isala going from tense and guarded into curious and relaxed within moments. Before he had seen it when they had been camping, when they had all been around the campfire and Varric told some impossible story. Or when Isala had been allowed time to explore an area extra thoroughly. This relaxed, curious state was a good look on him, it was also something Bull could read.

The elf was a mystery and it was driving him crazy. The moment he thought he had made sense of the inquisitor the elf did something to change that. There was just so many gaps about his past, so much unknown that Bull couldn't read, so much he simply couldn't figure out. For a Ben-Hassrath who's job was to read people, it was both thrilling and annoying.

The dragon scent was a big unknown element in the elf, the fact that he spoke Qunlat was another. He knew that the elf wasn't Qunari, he had too much of a free will, of course he could have changed with time but somehow Bull doubted that. The only time he had seen the elf falter was when they very unsuspected met with Alexius and it didn't take much for the elf to pull back from that. No, something must have changed him once he killed his old vint master and Bull wasn't sure what it was. Yet. He had all intentions to find out. 

"So... why is there an ax in your bed?" Isala asked thoughtfully as he wrapped his fingers around the shaft but let the ax stay in place before he let it go in favor for slipping down and sit on the edge of the bed looking at Bull curiously. 

"Might not be my bed." Bull pointed out with a smirk.

Isala snorted amused. The room reeked of the Qunari scent. Yes Qunari found his dragon smell intoxicating but Isala also found the horned giants smell being a very pleasant one as well. Different from the other races anyway. He didn't doubt there was something dragon about the Qunari as well, something very, very small and long forgotten, but it was there for him to notice. And this room, had undoubtedly the smell of The Iron Bull specifically. 

"This entire room smell of your race, or, of you, more specifically."

Isala didn't usually let his predatory side out this much unless he was exploring, with close friends or in a fight (or as after Haven, dying) but now he had let it loose. It was what happened when he relaxed. The dragonish part of him was let loose to share his head and that part of him was interested in the horned giant, it had been very interested in Tenek before him too, but Bull was new, thus a new interest.

"So it does go the other way around huh? Good t'know."

"Qunari smells in a specific way." He agreed. "It's.. hard to explain." Isala crawled over and straddled Bull's hips leaning against his neck where he took a deep breath. "I... You smell safe." He slowly began mapping Bull out, exploring the bare chest with his fingers, maybe if he could explore Bull the Qunari wouldn't be as intimidating as he was now. The same thing had once worked for Tenek and Orchid. 

Bull held his breath to focus on not pulling the elf close to drown in that scent as the elf straddled his hips. Slender fingers were playing over his chest and Bull could think of a dozen other places he'd like those fingers. Wondered if he'd ever get to feel said fingers on those places. Instead the elf focused on his tattoos and his scars following them with that curiosity in his eyes.

The touches were hinting between simple innocent curiosity and sexual. Dancing on the edge like a flipped coin spinning at a table and if the coin didn't flip to the side of sexual Bull really hoped that the redhead serving girl would be up for some fun later because he really would be in need of a good fuck. The elf shifted his hips slightly while one hand had sneaked it's way up to his horn and touched just that spot that made him growl and both arms quickly wrapped around the smaller frame pulling him close. 

By the light laughter he took it the elf knew of that spot by experience. Bull briefly wondered if it was Tal-Vahsoth or Qunari that had taught him but he didn't care because the elf flickered his fingers over the same spot again and Bull buckled up his hips drawing out a delicious moan from the elf straddling him.

Isala hummed in content and bit the Qunari with his slightly pointed teeth. He wasn't entirely certain on what the hell he was doing, only that he enjoyed this far more than he enjoyed leading a huge organization. Bull made him feel safe, those strong arms wrapped around his middle made him feel like if nothing could possibly touch him here. Except for Bull himself that is.

The horn thing, he had once noticed with Tenek purely by accident. He had wondered if it was restricted to Tenek by when he had tried touching Orchid on the same spot she had reacted the same and now Bull. He were delighted over knowing that spot, he wondered what Bull would do if he slid his tongue over it. He resisted that urge and instead began to trace his fingers over the scars in Bull's face.

"Krem told me about this one. I was drunk and he told me about his time in Tevinter. All my scars are from outside Tevinter, the magisters didn't want scars on me, lowering second hand value. This one though." Isala pointed at the scar splitting his eyebrow and down over his cheekbone with a huge grin. "Dragon! I was on her territory and she didn't like me." He hummed. 

Bull chuckled lightly and reached one hand up stroking gently over the scar. "You've a real thing 'bout dragons don't you?" He asked and stroke down to the scar crossing the beautiful elf's lip. "What about this one?" He figured he might be able to get some history out of the elf by asking about the scars. The only warning he got by the elf that he was up to something, was the wicked grin he was given.

Before he knew it those impossibly soft lips locked around his finger, a hot tongue swirling around it. A damn pointy tongue and he could feel sharp teeth, there was more than just the scent and the eyes that was dragon about this elf. That tongue was wicked to say the least and Bull wondered how it would feel lapping his cock as eagerly as it was his fingers. He would definitely need a good fuck or a ice bath after this. Possibly both, most likely both. 

Isala closed his eyes as he kept swirling around or lapping with his tongue both of his hands resting on Bull's shoulders. Of course that's also when the door slammed open and one of Leliana's messengers stood in it. Isala pulled away with such speed he ended up on the floor but holding his daggers halfway in a throw before he stared at the agent. 

The poor boy looked torn between shock, embarrassment and urgency of the note he held in his hand. This better be damn important because he was rather sure his face was on fire from what he had just been caught doing. "Inquisitor Isala. Urgent letter from the king of Ferelden." That, Isala decided, was important enough and he quickly got up on his feet and walked over grabbing the letter and looked at Bull apologetic.   


"It's about Felix... I'm sorry." He said before practically fleeing from the awkward scene. 

Bull sighed and closed his eyes leaning his head back against the headboard. "Unless you're interested in joining me in bed I suggest you'd close the door now." Bull said and the agent stared wide eyed, hesitating then blushed and quickly slammed the door. Bull could hear the kid run away then sighed and shoved his hand down his pants, one finger slick by elf saliva, the very thought of that made his cock twitch before he began stroking himself in a steady pace taking deep breaths of the lingering scent of dragon around him. 


	15. 15: An unexpected visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isala reads his letter and he meets with two strange men. Hopefully this will be good news for Felix.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter this time. I apologize but I was growing concerned over Felix and wanted these people to swing by! Hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

**9:41 Dragon -Skyhold-**

 

> Inquisitor! 
> 
> (And Leliana honestly stop reading other people's letters, it's impolite)
> 
> Look another fancy title for you! I do not envy you at all. Titles eats your name you know, keep your friends close, those who goes on your nerves the most will end up those you love the most later when they still remember your name. 
> 
> Anyway, I had other reasons for writing. In Redcliffe you asked me to send a letter to the wardens and I did. Unsurprisingly they gave no answer. The wardens are up to something funky but I don't know what it is yet. Wardens don't meddle in politics and here I am very political, the moment I accepted the title as king the wardens stopped counting me and my wife as part of the wardens.
> 
> However Lyna has a brother. Teheron Mahariel, he is less nestled into politics than we are and have a warden title as the warden commander. He's for the moment out somewhere looking for something. I can't say what but this time because I'm quite certain Leliana has read this letter (If she has the twins misses their aunt and Duncan want a stuffed nug for his name day) 
> 
> Well, Inquisitor, I suggest you save this letter, you'll understand in time, trust me you will. Store it somewhere only you can get your hands on it and await word from Teheron within short. 
> 
> Good luck with your friend.
> 
> Alistair Theirin, King of Ferelden. (Oh look, another title)

Isala stared at the letter as he pushed open door leading up to his own bedroom. The letter was strange to say the least, he was fairly certain Leliana had read the letter. He almost went up to her to ask her if this was Alistair's usual ways of writing or if they should send someone to Denerim just to make sure Alistair wan't being held hostage or anything. But remembering the meeting with Ferelden's king made him shake his head, this was most likely just Alistair being Alistair.

The fact that the king had asked for the letter to be placed where only him would touch it made him a little concerned. He really hoped Alistair hadn't got some magical enchantment etched to the letter that would make it set on fire as soon as it had been read or something like that. To be honest, he didn't put that thought past the human so he decided he'd leave it in the bathroom or something until he was sure it was flameproof. 

As he scooted  the second door open he heard something from his bedroom that had it's door slightly ajar. He slowly put one hand on his dagger as he moved to the door and soundlessly slipped inside then up the stairs. He could have gone to get backup but he doubted that anything too dangerous had managed to get into his room and had it been a good assassin he wouldn't have heard any noises.

He stopped at the top stairs and looked at the elf with maroon brown wavy hair swaying over his back and shoulders. The elf was currently browsing his bookshelf and Isala leaned to the reeling by the stairs. The elf was a mage, really those staffs were giant  _I'm a mage_ signs. Some mages made him weary. Usually human mages, elven mages, not so much. 

"Find what you are looking for?" He asked calmly and looked at the other elf arching his brow slightly. 

The other elf turned around with a cheeky grin on his face. He had some scars scattered that spoke of battle. The stance was also that of a battle mage, not a supporter. His face were adorn with Dalish tattoos even if Isala had no idea what god these set of tattoos represented since he himself wasn't Dalish. The man didn't seem to be here to attack so Isala saw no reason to be either snappy or threatening.

"Ah! You must be the inquisitor, my name is Teheron. Alistair sent me or rather asked me to swing by here."

That was rather quick. Isala had expected a letter but he supposed Alistair's letter made more sense now. At least he wouldn't have to worry the letter would suddenly set on fire for no reason. He looked the elf up and down and gave a small nod. He had heard the stories of the grey wardens and the blight. How the two Dalish siblings had saved the world when they had killed the archdemon.

"You may call me Isala. How did you get into my room? Should I have security looked up on?" He asked and smiled slightly. 

"I walked actually, either Leliana knew it was me or she really didn't notice me. Anyway. Alistair told me you had problems with someone tainted by the blight. Now I brought a healer, just to check if it's really the blight and not something we can cure." 

Isala noted that the elf was guarded speaking about his healer. He had of course noticed how the balcony door wasn't closed which it should since he always closed it. He didn't like it too much when he had to try to get some of his very limited sleep in freezing cold. But the small crack in the door told him that that was either the way Teheron had gotten in or they weren't alone.

"A healer? Are you talking about yourself?" Isala asked amused. "Or the one hiding on my balcony?"

Theron chuckled lightly and shook his head "Well, I'm an awful healer, look at my face I leave scars and everything." He pointed at his scar over his face then walked over to the door and scooted it open. "Look this might piss you off and if it does, tell us because we'd prefer leaving silently but if we must we're leaving with a loud bang." 

Isala arched a brow as a man walked in behind Teheron. The hood was dropped showing off strawberry blond hair and honey brown eyes. Isala wasn't entirely sure what Teheron was blabbering about. Why would a human piss him off? He looked the blond stranger up and down then arched his brow. 

"Do you mean because he is a mage?" He asked uncertain.

"You don't know?" The blond asked staring at him. "You don't know who I am?"

Isala sighed deeply. He should obviously know this then. He dropped Alistair's letter on the couch beside him "No? I've been on Seheron the latest decade." He said slightly annoyed. It wasn't as if the fog warriors got much news from the outside, they didn't care about it either. Thedas wasn't all their land, their land, their war zone was Seheron and Seheron Only.

Teheron visibly relaxed and actually laughed lightly shaking his head. The blond just stared at him stupidly muttering something about him moving to Seheron to live there the rest of his life. Teheron patted the human affectionately before he kissed his cheek. Isala was still trying to place the blond. The southerners didn't have mage nobles so the man wasn't a noble. 

"Creators" Teheron snickered "Yes we are definitely moving to Seheron for a retirement plan. But Inquisitor, meet Anders. Yes the Anders who blew up the chantry in Kirkwall and begun the rebellions."

"It was the only way for change... I don't... I wouldn't do anything like that without a cause. Me and Justice... we are more parted than we were then."

Anders began defending himself but Isala didn't see the reason. He didn't approve of the power crazy mages running around. He didn't approve of Fiona's try to ally with Tevinter. But yet so far, the rest of the mages seemed to only want to be people. Isala had checked in with them a couple of times and they seemed happy to just aid in getting Skyhold livable, healers helping the wounded, the older mages teaching the younger. He didn't see monsters who couldn't contain themselves.

"I approve of thee motion." He said simply.

"Look Anders is a good man who made a bad... wait what?" Teheron looked puzzled.

"I approve, I heard the circles were pulling tighter and tighter on the noose they called control. I have lived close enough to Par Vollen to know what happens when control becomes too much of a need. Mages are people, not saarebas."

"Oh I like him." The Anders said quickly. "I know I made a mess... if I can help sort it up..."

Isala nodded and smiled slightly. "You'd have to go under the other mage rules though, No blood magic, no too large explosions and no deals with Tevinter, Rivaini or the Qunari." Isala said and shrugged.

"Sounds fair enough to me." Teheron said and chuckled. "You handsome?"

"I won't blow anything up unless it is darkspawn." Anders assured with a grin.

"I don't know how my advisers would react to you staying though." He said honestly. Cassandra would possibly strangle all three of them and Cullen would have a fit about it.

"Well, we won't stay long. Lyna sent us a message about your friend. Being a grey warden right now isn't a safe choice and it is no cure. It will only give him twenty to thirty years extra."

"Twenty years beat a few days." Isala said and sighed scratching his dreadlocks.

"Sometimes I wonder." Teheron said with a sad smile. "Me and my sister were tainted. In the beginning of the blight. We touched a tainted elluvian and the only way out was becoming grey wardens. We were four recruits, only two of us survived. So this might kill your friend instantly." 

"I think he is willing to take that risk."

"We will speak to him. This is after all his decision. You join the warden for life standing by their side or not." 


	16. 16: The warrior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Storm coast, deepstalkers, feathers and a secret.

**9:41 Dragon -The Storm Coast-**

Teheron and Anders had told Isala they wanted about a week with Felix before anything was done about the taint in his body. Time to explain properly what it meant to be a grey warden and other _'warden business'_  they couldn't tell him about. Isala however was rather certain Teheron and Anders just wanted some days under a roof and relative safety so he had told people to keep away from Felix's room and that food should be placed outside.

Meanwhile, him, Blackwall, Varric, Solas and Bull took a little trip to the storm coast. The blades of Hessarian had sent conformation that the darkspawn was indeed turning into a real problem and they had mapped out the general areas to where the darkspawn seemed to crawl up from.

Usually Isala liked to have Dorian in his group, for the simple reason that Isala liked fire. Dorian's fire burned wild and hot against their enemies but Isala and their group could easily slip through the flames with only tickling feeling licking exposed skin. However Dorian hated the storm coast, water and rain. Whenever they went by even small ponds Dorian would groan and complain that he was getting seasick. Besides, someone needed to be around for Felix and Dorian was the best option. 

Since Isala always had at least one mage by his side the option had been between Vivienne and Solas and Vivienne was still short with him from allying with the mages and letting them loose without strict supervision. So, Solas was his only actual choice. Not that he minded, he quite like the other secretive elf and his amazing tales about the fade. He was still quite certain Solas knew a lot more than he let on about things, Isala could spot _'avoiding the truth'_ miles away and Solas practically oozed of it. But he didn't demand Solas to tell anything he didn't want to.

When the dark fell a storm pulled in over them and they had to take cover in an almost empty cave. The only inhabitants were a couple of overgrown spiders and a smaller pack of deepstalkers. Deepstalkers though, weren't a bad dinner, there was a lot of protein in them and if seasoned with salt and pepper they didn't taste too bad either.

While the others prepared the food Isala let his predatory senses loose and he began exploring the limited area that would serve as their camp for the night. He touched a handful of things, collected some deep mushrooms and spindle weed before stopping by a strange device standing forgotten in a corner. It was magical but the magic was dormant and he had an urge to touch it to turn it alive. 

He stroke his fingers slowly over some of the elven letters etched to the base of the construction and glanced up to the campfire. Solas wasn't exactly far away, he probably should go on the safe before unsafe, at least this once.

"Solas, I found a magic thingy, what is it?" He called out and tapped on the strange thing once. He really couldn't help himself.

"That is an old elven artifact, created to strengthen the veil." Solas said as he came over to look at the device.

"Why would they want to strengthen the veil? That is the barrier between the fade and mages. I heard all ancient elves were mages, shouldn't they want the opposite?" He asked looking up as Solas walked closer. 

Solas sent him a calculating look. Isala had seen it a couple of times before and either meant Solas would tell him a little more about some truth that had been carefully kept or the other elf would tell him something vaguely misconceiving. Isala did not feel for some misconceiving bullshit right now and sent Solas a challenging stare. Solas sighed and waved his hand in a slight dismissive fashion showing he had surrendered.

"As you wish. It evens out the veil. The veil is not a constant barrier, at some places it's thin, others it's thick, these devices are to even the fade out so it will not pull demons through where it is weakened and for magic to flow more freely where it is sturdier." Solas explained. "With lesser words, it strengthen the veil."

"Thank you Solas." Isala said politely.

He began mapping it out with his fingers curiously. Trying to figure out where pressure needed to be applied for it to start up and become active once again. Solas nodded before returning to the camp where Varric was already working on the deepstalkers. Apparently the dwarf had eaten it before. Him and Hawke's little company of misfits had been trapped in the deep roads, twice and Varric had learned how to make a delicious deepstalker. 

Isala pressed his fingers to the right grooves and the device crackles by happy green magic and Isala grinned victoriously. However the a moment later he squeaked and fell over on his ass when a deepstalker jumped up in his personal space. He gritted his teeth and snarled a warning challenge for the creature. The deepstalker squeaked thinking better of it and quickly darted another way. 

Isala grinned as he watched the tail vanish behind some rocks and he got up on his feet almost skipping his way back to the others. He knew he shouldn't let that side of him out this much. These people weren't Tenek, Orchid, Septimus, Keelah or Rowena, these people didn't know about that side and he intended to keep it that way until it was something that they figured out on their very own. 

He slid down on the floor between Bull and Varric and put his pack in his lap as he began digging around in it. His hair had been lacking decorations for far too long now. Before the conclave there had been gold rings in his dreads but they must have fallen off him. But he had found some feathers that he'd like that would go nicely in his hair. Not that he was entirely certain how to get them in. Usually Orchid was the one to fix with his hair.

"I suppose none of you are used to dreadlocks and feathers?" He asked mournfully as he pulled out the red blue and green feathers from his bag. 

"Sorry snapdragon but no." Varric said amused and looked at him.

Isala huffed and began intertwining the feathers with his dreads by himself. It was fairly easy with the front ones that he could hold in front of his face so he knew what he was doing, but he soon found resistance trying to get the ones he couldn't quite reach. To his surprise Solas sat down on the rock behind him and took the feathers from his hand. 

"Be still lethallin." Solas instructed and began working on his dreads with experienced care.

"Wouldn't peg you for one to know about hair chuckles." Varic said as he worked on the deepstalker meat. 

"I once had dreadlocks as well, child of the stone. I shaved them off when they unfortunately got damaged beyond cleaning." 

Isala smiled amused. He wondered what Solas would look like if he would still have hair, dreadlocks even. He'd probably look younger and wilder than he did now, the calm composed fade mage would be a young rebellious battle mage. Well, that's what Isala's brain composed up for him anyhow. More likely Solas would be the same calm composed fade mage only with hair.

They chatted some while Solas incorporated the feathers into the dreadlocks and Varric finished their dinner. After dinner Blackwall was the first to retreat to his bedroll, Solas not soon after. Varric offered to take first watch and Bull agreed on the second one. While Varric and Bianca went for first watch the rest of them went to get some sleep. 

Usually this would be when Isala got most sleep. Well, at least when Sera was around then he'd sleep huddled  up with his crazy elven friend. But tonight, sleep just didn't want to find him as he laid watching the fire slowly die out. By the time Varric and Bull shifted positions the fire was nothing but embers and Blackwall was snoring heavily. 

When a slight snoring was heard from Varric as well, Isala gave up on his tries for sleep and sat up silently before moving over to sit beside Bull looking out at the rain that fell over the rocks outside. The Qunari didn't say anything at first, nor did Isala. He was tired and the rain was slowly lulling his senses into a relaxed state. 

He wondered if Bull saw what he saw when he looked out in the rain. If the Qunari heard what he heard. The symphony of the wind as it clashed with the sound of the heavy drops of the rain and the waves washing up over the beach. He wondered if Bull could hear the far off thunder that cracked the sky somewhere far away. He wondered if Bull saw the spindle weed that that gracefully swayed after wind and water. 

Isala saw it. He saw the beauty of nature, he saw the freedom of it. No one could tame the wind, the earth or the water. No one could tell the plants to stop growing or whip the waves to stop washing up the beach. It was serenity and it was chaos all at once, beauty of nature in a way no one could ever touch.

"How did you escape the Qun?"

Well, clearly Bull wasn't thinking about what he was thinking. Isala took a moment before he looked at the Qunari then back out on the beauty of the stormy night. It hadn't been asked as a hostile question. Bull seemed to be honestly curious and Isala couldn't really blame him. He knew people didn't just leave the Qun like that. His case though... it would mean telling Bull about who he was, what he was.

But maybe it was time the Qunari knew. After what happened the other day in Bull's room, they were on dangerous territory already, better let the Qunari know now rather than wait for him to find out later. That would undoubtedly mean that hell would break loose when he didn't expect it. At least telling it on his own would mean he'd know when hell broke loose. 

"I got help to escape." He said slowly.

"Again, how did someone manage that?" Bull asked looking at him interested. 

"Pretend and act as a Viddasala and no one will question it." He said honest "You should probably know something about me, about what and who I am."

Bull was watching him without saying a word. Isala opened his mouth but no words came out and he sighed standing up and began pacing back and forth by the cave entrance. He wasn't certain on how to say it or even **if** saying it was the best course of action. He wasn't sure he wanted know how Bull reacted to this new information. Bull probably would kill him for it, after all that's what Qunari did to Fog warriors. That's what a fog warrior _should_ have done against a loyal Qunari.

Isala cursed silently as he paced. Not once did Bull stop him from his pacing or tell him to hurry up. He just sat there patiently watching him with his one eye, ever so understanding it seemed. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to tell Bull? Maybe the Qunari wouldn't care. After all, he did have a vint in his own mercenary gang.

Isala stopped his pacing and held his hand up in a _'stay'_ motion and quickly went over for his bag and pulled up a piece of parchment and scribbled down two words on it before folding it neatly four times, bringing the bag and the parchment to Bull.

"Open it when I am on my mount. I need some time." He said and looked at Bull then headed out in the rain. 

Bull silently watched the elf step out of the cave and over to the wild hart that Isala had been given when Dennett had joined the inquisition with his horses. As a thank you for building watch towers and chasing away the wolves. It was clear that the inquisitor was nervous and twitchy by the way the elf had moved, stared one last time at the parchment longingly as if he wanted to take it from Bull's hands but then decided to leave instead. 

The Qunari just watched as the elf rode away into the dark but not once did he try to stop him. It wasn't his place to stop the elf nor did Isala wish to be stopped for that matter. Whatever stood on this parchment it was bad enough for the elf to believe he needed to be far away before it was being read. Bad enough for the elf who hated the cold to ride off in the middle of a storm.

When there was nothing but darkness out where the Inquisitor had left Bull unfolded the note. Reading the words, he understood. The constant guard Isala held up around him, the battle skills, the ability to vanish quick and deadly, the reason he knew Qunlat. The note held two words but it was two words that made such a huge difference. It was two words that had something icy run down his spine, two words that made his body tense up, ready to fight invisible enemies.

Two words. Ten letters. 

Fog Warrior.

And it changed everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for a short chapter but I wanted a dramatic cliffhanger! *undramatic music played on a fiddle*


	17. 17: I can't escape this.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip to the emerald graves, Felix fate and the problem with Bull. This chapter is a mess of emotions.

**9:41 Dragon -The emerald graves-**

Isala didn't have a plan as to where he was supposed to go when he left the Storm Coast. He only knew he needed to be as far away from Bull as possible before the Qunari knew what he was, who he was and what he used to fight for, what he still would have fought for had he still been at Seheron. Bull would probably tell the others and he wasn't certain how they would react, he just didn't want to be around for the reaction. 

The reason he ended up in the emerald graves was because of the familiarity of the forest. The jungle like habitat and the warming sun was like being back on Seheron, well like being back to the colder months of Seheron anyway, with less colorful birds and less chance to end up in the middle of the Qunari and Tevinter war. There was still a risk to walk into vints, those damn Venatori were everywhere, but it wasn't the same.

If he stood entirely still and quiet, closed his eyes, took a deep breath and pictured Seheron really hard he could almost feel it. He could almost pretend he was just taking a deep breath in Seheron, the calm before the storm. He could smell the prophets laurel mixed with the crystal grace and elfroot. He could pretend that he was here to look for herbs for Orchid.

But there was just so much pretending he could do. After two days of aimless wandering about the forest he decided to look up this Fairbanks who wanted to speak to him. Speak to the Inquisitor in person. The man seemed to be one of the more decent men he had met. He and his people were hidden away ready to fight for safety. They didn't want a war, they wanted peace but it was impossible for the time being. 

The problem was some men that had decided that the emerald graves were theirs and that other people had nothing to do there. Isala agreed to help him. He could do nothing today, but soon, he promised to return and help with these Freemen of the Dales soon. It was a promise he knew he had to hold because sooner or later he would have to return to the inquisition, no matter what they thought of him now. 

After leaving Fairbanks camp he stayed the next night in a cave. It was abandoned and untouched probably once the lair of a bear because the fading scent of predator had kept other animals away. The cave was in a good spot, not too far away from a creek where he could wash himself and gather water to make himself some food, potions and some new poisons. 

He had gathered enough ingredients to make several poisons and potions and since he had nothing else planned to do that was exactly what he did. Varric had managed to obtain some strange alchemy tools used to make the fog by Isala's request, the dwarf hadn't asked what the strange set was for, he had just got him the things. Now days Isala always carried them with him in his bag. 

The first thing he made was the fog. He had used the last vial when Corypheus attacked and since then he hadn't been left alone long enough to make more. So he had up until now been without it. As he worked over the fire with his pot mist happily slipped out over the ground soon covering the entire floor of the cave. Isala felt more at home than he had in a long time and that gave him some much needed peace of mind.

The day after that, his third or possibly fourth day out in the wilds, he got his chance to try his fog out. There was several red templars in the area. Templars that Cullen specifically had mentioned so Isala had searched them out. Dressed in nothing but his leather breeches and his belts he had painted himself white and in the fog the templars hadn't had a chance against him. 

He retrieved four letters, all of them connecting to Samson and Isala stored the letters in a pocket of his coat when he came back to the cave where he had left his things. Afterwards he waded out in the creek and began cleaning off belt buckles, breeches and his body in lukewarm water. The only light illuminating him came from the moon and the stars up in the sky.

Of course a good spot like that, so close to water and the scent of blood from dead templars attracted the attention of a great bear. Isala was lucky he always brought his blades with him whenever he was out in the wilds. It wasn't the easiest task to stay away from the huge paws of the bear when the bear had no one to attack other than him. But it wasn't impossible and Isala came out victorious in the end. 

With the bear dead by the side of the creak he began the tough work of skinning the beast and strip the carcass free from all the things that could prove useful. He cleaned the pelt free of blood and leftover flesh. Washed the meat free of blood and wrapped it into large leaves with help of some twine. He carved out teeth and claws and broke off several ribs and brought it all back to his cave. 

The pelt was put  up between a construction of sticks to make the fur dry out. The meat he placed over a cooling rune so it wouldn't go bad, teeth and claws went into the same pocket as the feathers of his backpack and the ribs he silently carved arrow tips of until he fell asleep.

When he woke up the next morning from a half sleep it was by the sun licking his half naked body. For the first half of the day he did nothing more important than lay basking in the sun and stretch out lazily while listening to birds tweeting around him in the forest. He couldn't get moving until the sun had dried out the bearskin anyway so he figured feeling guilty about it wouldn't help anyone.

Unfortunately he knew he knew he couldn't stay away from the inquisition forever. He had seen the future where he had disappeared, it hadn't been a good one. Fog warrior or not, he was now the leader of the inquisition and the one walking around with the mark on his hand, he couldn't just ignore that. He packed up his things, the bear pelt and meat into his magically enlarged pack along with his fog, poison and potion vials before he left the cave to return to Skyhold.

* * *

**9:41 Dragon -Skyhold-**

Isala hadn't even been given time to get out of the stables before an agent had found him and informed him he was expected in the war room. Isala had passed the kitchens and dropped off the bear meat then spent two hours caught in the war room between Josephine, Leliana and Cullen all being happy to see him, impressed he had managed to stay away for so long and mad that he had been away to long. 

When he had been let go Josephine had informed him that he was expected to wear some sort of formal wear when he was at Skyhold and suitable clothes had been delivered to his room. A couple of outfits that would be good enough for when he met with nobles or delivered judgement.

She also reminded him that he was responsible to judge Alexius for his actions in Redcliffe. Something Isala didn't look forwards to at all. He didn't like Alexius, but he couldn't judge him on something he had yet to do. This Alexius had not done what the future Alexius had done and what he had done in the future he had done for Felix and Isala still wasn't certain he could judge him for that either since he would have done many reckless things for the people he cared about as well. 

Thinking about Alexius made him think about Felix and that made the cold clench grab harder in his guts. Since no one had said anything he feared the worst and he really didn't need to feel guilty about that right now, he already had too much on his table. Politics, nobles, a million little problems from people who had requested the inquisitor's help.

Those were all little nagging thoughts that haunted him while he took his bath after the meeting. While he rubbed soap into his dreads and tried to keep the feeling of overwhelming responsibility away. If he was to be honest it was like being back at Tevinter, fucking up wasn't allowed, leaving wasn't allowed and now choosing his own damn clothes wasn't even allowed. 

It hurt worse than he had thought it would. To know that despite having left Tevinter, despite having fled the Qunari, his eight years of freedom was over and he had been leashed and shackled anew. Only this time the chains were made of gold and had leather padding to invite him to mistake it for comfort and freedom. 

He felt sick about that and as soon as he was done soaping his hair he rinsed it out then got up from the water and looked at all clothes waiting for him on the bed. Unsurprisingly he liked neither of the outfits. He wasn't a puppet to be dressed up and put at display, not anymore, never again. 

He grabbed a pair of leather leggings from one of the sets and slid them on, they fitted snugly and showed pretty much every inch of his legs under the tight leather. He dug around among the clothes and grabbed the brown leather west that fit perfectly to his frame and put it on the floor to cut away the chest part and the lower back. Leaving his entire chest on display when he pulled it back on. He grabbed the leather gloves with buckles and cut the fingers mostly off before pulling them on as well.

At his hips he buckled two belts and his daggers was slipped on place over his thighs. As he wrapped his feet with the footwrappers and looked himself in the mirror he grinned. It was as far away from allowed as possible and he enjoyed it, he needed this to know he was still his own. He wanted one more small detail though and Dorian was probably the one to ask. 

He hummed as he quickly slipped down the stairs and out in the main hall. Ignored the people staring at him or flashed them with a sharp toothed grin before he slipped into the rotunda. The nobles really sniffed at something so silly as clothes and somehow Isala really needed to see a large difference between himself and the nobles today. It made him feel a lot better. 

Solas looked down at him from where he worked on his fresco when he came into the rotunda and chuckled slightly shaking his head in amusement. Isala liked Solas, he really wasn't as strict or boring as he might seem when first looking at him. He often made jokes or chuckled over jokes that a strict person shouldn't be laughing about.  

"I see your trip to the emerald graves did you good lethallin. Did you find some peace?"

"I... believe I did. You knew didn't you?"

Solas sent him an affirmative smile but said nothing out loud. Isala smiled as well over it. The difference between Tevinter and here was the people. His friends, they cared for him and he cared for them. Not like his former masters had claimed to care for him, these people really did care for him. Enough for Solas to keep Isala's hideout secret from the others.

"Thank you Solas, it was appreciated."

He left the other elf to his painting and quickly walked up the stairs towards Dorian's alcove. He would know about Felix now. Even if Dorian didn't tell him he'd know, without a doubt the loss would be obvious in the altus' face if Felix was gone. However the day was full of surprises.

Dorian wasn't alone in the alcove. Anders was sitting in the armchair with a hood hiding his face, Teheron was leaned to a pillar while Dorian  _and Felix!_ Was standing leaned to the reeling, all three of them chatting. Dorian was the first to notice that Isala had joined them up the stairs. Needless to say, Dorian's eyes fell to his naked chest in the matter of moments.

"My, my. Someone look like an avvar savage." He purred and Isala snorted. 

Seeing Felix was like lifting a heavy weight of his chest because Felix looked healthy as ever. Well, maybe as if he hadn't slept in some time but that was to be expected from a man who just almost died. 

"I look like someone who vandalized his own wardrobe and expect to be yelled a by Josephine later." He corrected and smiled. "It is nice to see you up and about Felix."

"It is nice to be up again." Felix said and smiled "Thank you for that."

Isala just grinned and hugged Felix in a one armed hug before he turned to look at Dorian again. Dorian who was still watching his exposed chest. Isala shook his head amused. True Dorian was handsome, but Isala wasn't into humans, his time abused and used sexually by magisters had stopped him from ever grow interested by a human. 

"Still too flat ears Dorian. I like pointy ears. I am sure Cullen is open for business though." He said and winked. "Anyway, I came for a reason, other than for you to ogle my chest thank you very much. How good are you with piercings?"

Dorian finally looked up at his face and chuckled lightly when he mentioned Cullen. Isala noticed with interest a the slightest flush to dark skin and how Dorian's lip curled just the slightest. Hadn't he been a former slave whom's life had been knowing his masters every change in moods he wouldn't have noticed it, but here he was. He knew Dorian and Cullen played  chess in the gardens everyday ever since they came to Skyhold.

Leliana and Cassandra had suggested it to figure out if Dorian was a Venatori spy. Isala who knew Felix enough to trust his judgement had dismissed that idea but he hadn't said it out loud. Cullen needed an hour of the day where he did nothing more important than enjoying himself and the chess had improved the commanders mood. Maybe there was more than just friendly relaxation his commander found in the gardens. 

"Trust me, you don't want Dorian to pierce you" Felix said and chuckled lightly shaking his head. "He pierced my ear and it was a disaster."

"Felix we were young. You can hardly count that one." Dorian protested.

Teheron laughed lightly and shook his head "My Anderfell man over there happen to be very good at piercings, he did my nose." Teheron tapped the ring he had in his nose and smiled. "If you ask him really nicely he'll help you." 

Anders laughed lightly and stood up from the chair putting his book away. "I am a healer, of course I am good at it. Where do you want it?" The blond hooded man asked as he walked closer.

Isala quickly  pulled up the ring from one of the pouches on his belts and a needle before pointing at his left nipple with a grin. Isala already had a couple of piercings in his ears and two in his right eyebrow. He did them when he needed to feel it was his body. piercings and tattoos, Orchid and Tenek had been the other two helping him with his body modifications before. 

Anders nodded and took the needle from him before casting a little spell on the needle. Isala looked down as Anders put one hand on his pectoral muscle holding the needle and ring ready with the other hand and looking up at Isala from under the hood for confirmation. Isala nodded and grabbed the closest thing  to hold onto which was Felix's arm and Felix held his in return.

"On three then. One, two-" 

Anders didn't count to three and Isala hissed through gritted teeth as the needle went into the sensitive flesh. Piercing nipples was much more painful than piercing ears but somewhere in the same area as tattooing his face. However just as soon as the cooler metal of the ring had slid in, the pain vanished under Anders fingers as the blue magic of a healing spell licked his skin. 

Isala looked in fascination how Anders made the skin heal while gently tugging the ring to make sure the skin never healed the ring stuck. Isala bit his tongue from making the moan he wanted to make by Anders touching and tugging the sensitive area. Not that he was interested in Anders or anything like that, it was just a reaction from having that area touched and prodded. 

"There we go." Anders finally said and backed a step to admire his own work. 

"Thank you." Isala said and looked down touching it on his own and grinned. "So? Does it look good?" He asked looking up at the rest of them.

"Very much so even." Dorian purred. 

"Agreed, and I have pointy ears you know." Teheron said wiggling his brows. Anders snorted amused and grabbed the redheads hips pulling him over close to his chest and kissed on his shoulder. Teheron laughed lightly and looped his arm around Anders' neck and kissed his cheek. "We can make my blond savage here into an elf sandwich."

"Tempting." Isala said and laughed lightly. 

"Do I have a say in this love?" Anders asked amused. "I rather not share my elf."

"Not even for an elf sandwich?" Teheron asked with a silly pout. 

"Hmm, nope. No sharing, I am a bad mage." Anders hummed with a little laugh. 

Dorian laughed and shook his head and Felix blushed a little over the exchange. Isala just snorted amused. It was clear Teheron wouldn't actually share either but the elf clearly enjoyed flirtatious tease and without a doubt the possessive sex it would bring later. Not that Isala hadn't shared before, it had been that time with Tenek and Septimus both... but he preferred not sharing and Anders was still a human. 

"I must say that he is still to flat eared for my taste." Isala said and chuckled. "But thank you for the help anyway, now I'm going to flee before Josephine figures out I'm here and destroyed my wardrobe." He said cheery to them.

He smiled as he left them to go and find Sera. He feared her finding him first as she would undoubtedly find him with an arrow to his ass. Sure he might deserve it for leaving her without a word but he preferred an angry hug rather than an arrow. So he quick and quietly made his way outside and shivered by the cold. Maybe this outfit wasn't the best in the mountains but he rather liked it this way, maybe he could get a heat rune etched to each glove. 

He ignored an Orlesian woman who gasped as she saw him and aimed for the tavern only to realize this would lead him right past Bull. That made him falter and he shifted from one foot to the other just standing outside before slinking up the stairs to the battlements instead.

He jumped over the edge to the roof of the tavern and made his way quickly over to Sera's window and slid through it. Sera yelped and aimed a hit after him with her bow before realizing who it was and instead tackled him in a hug. Isala grinned and held her close to him in the pile they made on the pillows and mattresses by the window that was Sera's bed. She cursed at him and called him a shithead but stayed cuddled with anyway.

"I'm sorry I just left Sera." He finally said and kissed on her hair where she laid on his chest.

She hit him for that too, a stinging slap that made him snort a laughter. "You're a shithead you are. Don' leave me here with all pish posh high and mighty people again yeah?" She asked and Isala smiled stroking his hand through her messily cut hair.

"I promise I will send you word if I ever do it again." He promised her and he meant it, if he ever just left again at least he would send word to her.

They stayed for a long while like that, cuddled up and just chatting about nothing special. The nobles, some red jenny missions, Sera's idea of bees and things like that. Isala put it on his mental to do list to find if he could get Sera bees on a jar, she was good with the jars she already threw around herself and at people.

When he left Sera's room he was pretty much relaxed and had forgotten why he had climbed into Sera's window to begin with. That's why he walked out the door when he left her instead of using the window again. He was reminded about the problem however the moment he closed Sera's door and there was a Qunari blocking the way he had planned to take. 

Isala flinched and his hands fell to his knives instinctively as he looked up at Bull. The only reason he didn't lash out when Bull reached out and guided him to a more private corner of the tavern was because Bull wasn't armed and if he needed it he could just scream and Sera would be out with her bow and arrows within seconds.

"This won't go away on it's own." Bull finally said after some tense minutes of silence. "Get it off your chest and I'll let you know what's on mine."

Isala looked at Bull's chest. Mostly because it was what happened to be in his line of vision and not because he actually thought there would be something visible on Bull's chest. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to say though. That he was terrified? That if the window had been open he would have dove through it? That he hated to be cornered and right now he had no good line of escape? None of these things seemed good to say, better not let Bull know just how trapped he had him. 

Bull saw the twitchy elf eye every exit and every escape rout and he sighed realizing the elf wasn't in attacking nor fighting mode that he had first thought. The elf was terrified and acted like a caged animal shuffling on his feet and twisting his fingers while eyes darted between every escape rout and Bull's chest. Bull backed a step making a path open for the elf. This wouldn't work, he wouldn't be the reason the elf had that terrified look on his face. 

"Me and the boys will be gone before the sun is down then. Been an interesting experience boss." He finally said.

Isala watched the Qunari turn around and walk away. Stared at him as he walked down the stairs. He didn't say a word. Just felt his body ache from the inside by the turmoil of emotions that had broken free. He was scared, tense and terrified as everything caught up with him. He just watched Bull speak to Krem, who in turn nodded slowly and glanced up at him giving a sad nod. Isala didn't move but breathing was getting harder for every second passing. 

"Fear, dark, hurt. The bars are golden but the cage is still there. You don't want him to leave but he frightens you... but he is safe too... I don't understand." 

Isala jumped back and almost fell over a bench behind him when Cole appeared beside him. He crossed his arms over his chest curling up slightly at himself where he stood. The spirit boy hadn't done his creepy thing on him yet, he had heard Cole do it at the others a couple of times, seen the boy look at Isala as if he was a puzzle but never said anything. Now, Isala couldn't provide a good answer because he didn't know the answer to that himself.

"Why does he scare you? You keep it locked, I can't reach it... reaching it would help." 

"You don't want to reach it Cole. Stop trying."

"Why?"

"Because it broke me."

"The Iron Bull wouldn't break you, he heard when you screamed..." Cole looked at him thoughtfully for a second. "Cold, dark, so tired, so lonely, pain, hurt, fear, please make it stop! let them do what they want. No... wait that didn't... I pulled but it pulled wrong. It is... unlocking but not as it should..."

Isala felt his stomach turn and he pulled away from Cole and quickly darted down the stairs fleeing the tavern. He moved to he back of the tavern and leaned one hand to the wall when he retched up whatever was in his stomach from this morning. It had snapped when Cole had spoken, memories that his predatory side had long locked up and forced away to save him from breaking had been unleashed in his head again.

He wasn't even aware that tears was streaming down over his cheeks. He knew what he remembered from his time under the Ben-Hassrath wasn't the extent of it but he hadn't been able to guess the rest, he hadn't wanted to guess the rest. When he had found that he was free, when he had realized there was a blockade in his head keeping those memories away. He had been grateful, he hand't poked the sleeping dragon, just let it stay forgotten. 

He barely even noticed the large hand that came to rest on his back, but his predatory side was pulled back into his minds grounding him. He felt the hand rub slow circles, the motion pulling him out of the dark pit of memories Cole had just breached for him. The higher up he came the more was safely being locked away. No one stepped into the re-educators and came out whole. What happened there was more than anyone could actually handle and he was himself only because of what was inside him had saved him.

"Let it out big guy, better out than in, trust me."

Isala turned around and shoved Bull square in the chest. The Qunari didn't budge just held his hands up in surrender, watching the elf swap between rage and terror. Today was the first time he actually had been able to read the guy and what he read was overwhelming fear. Cole had appeared beside him in the tavern and told him he had pulled the wrong thing. Bull had guessed as much when he had seen the elf run but he didn't follow until Cole said that he was breaking.

"I can't... I can't leave..." Isala gasped out.

And that was the problem really. Isala was trapped worse than he had been in years, more trapped than when he had been while in chains because chains were always chains, you saw them and you knew you were a prisoner. These chains were invisible but they were still there, still making him a prisoner, a slave, a tool. He took a deep breath when Bull put his hands on his sides stopping him from sliding to the ground when his legs gave out under him.

Instead of pulling away Isala just leaned to the large Qunari frame and broke down in sobs. Fingers grabbing to the leather straps of his harness tightly as if it was the only thing that kept him on the ground. Bull carefully held the elf close while the little dragon smelling guy fought his inner demons, trying to keep his head over the water. 

When the sobs and the shaking slowly ebbed out Bull carefully stroke a massive hand missing two fingers through the black dreadlocks. The elf sighed deeply but that was a slightly more content sound than the broken sobs so Bull did it again. It made the elf relax just slightly more. Bull would make sure to remember that if he ever needed the elf to relax again.

"I can't... do this." He mumbled tiredly. "Tevinter... I can't... not again..."

That was not what Bull had thought would come out. He had thought it would be about the Qunari, what had happened to the elf at Seheron. It didn't take him long however to follow what the elf was on about now. "Look boss, you are in charge, you want to go, you can go. Your choice." Bull said calmly.

But it wasn't a choice, not really. If Isala left the world would turn into a lyrium infested nightmare. It wasn't a choice he could make, it wasn't a choice he wanted to make. He only wished someone else could be doing this thing, someone more suited for this life. He grabbed a little tighter to Bull's leather harness and kept his head leaned to Bull's massive chest. 

"What if I fuck up?" He asked taking a deep breath.

If he fucked up at Seheron they would get out of the fight with some cut's and bruises. They would laugh and say that was the last time they let Isala plan anything then Orchid would heal them all and they would move on. If he fucked up here people would die. They would turn to hate and blame him for every bad decision ever made and it would be all his fault.

"If you fuck up me and the boys have your back. We help you fix it." 

Isala pulled away enough to stare up at Bull. He realized what exactly it was he was holding onto and quickly let him go but Bull still held onto his sides, comfortably grounding as he looked down at him with that calm look. Isala admired the calm, wished he would have it himself, wondered if it was just a mask or if Bull actually always were this calm.

"I'm a fog warrior." He said slowly looking away. 

"Never use poison, never kill civilians and you're damn good fighters. You hit us as hard as you hit the vints. A man's got to respect that. Besides, you smell real good."

Bull heard the elf snort in amusement and he reached one hand in under the inquisitor's chin tilting his head up slightly. It was a relief to see the elf's lips curled just slightly in a tiny smile before he leaned back to hide against his chest again. Bull gently nudged the elf's side. So flirting was the way to make him smile was it? Bull was good at flirting. 

"Are you telling me my work description?" Isala mumbled and squeaked slightly when Bull guided him to the opposite wall away from his previous breakfast. 

"Also pointing out you smell real good. But if you want I can tell you about your wicked tongue and your well shaped body instead." Bull said low and husky.

Isala squeaked again grabbing his large shoulders as his back met with the stone of the tavern wall. He wasn't sure when things changed but he didn't care because he liked this change and the distraction. He gasped when Bull leaned in to his neck and pulled a deep breath. Isala quickly angled his head the other way to give the Qunari space. Of course, the two of them seemed to have some sort of curse when it came to being interrupted just as things got interesting.

Isala audibly growled when an agent cleared her throat behind them and Bull groaned frustrated as he pulled back. The agent focused on just Isala when she spoke and Isala glared at her dangerously. Of course it wasn't her fault she had been told to get him but he was frustrated at her nonetheless. She could have pretended not to find them.

"Your presence is required in lady Montilyets office, ser." She informed them.

"I'll be there." He said and sighed deeply. The agent looked hesitant then turned around and left. "I... have to go and be shouted at for my lack of clothes." He said and sighed deeply. "If this was how you and I was to work things out.... then I suggest we do that more thoroughly later." He said slowly and stroke his fingers over a scar over Bull's chest.

"You know where to find me boss." Bull said and smiled. 

Isala grinned then tiptoed and kissed the corner of his lips "I do."


	18. 18: Wicked grace and the tale of the champion.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drunken tales and wicked grace. Oh two new people shows up at Skyhold as well.

**9:41 Dragon -Skyhold-**

"There Hawke stood, blood dribbling to the floor from the wound threatening to spill out his guts on the keep's floor. Staff broken in two and thrown aside, the Arishok ready to attack. Something wild flew over his face and he held his hands up and the abyss itself reached for the-"

"Horseshite! You can't just do that! Magicking or not!"

Sera called out protesting interrupting Varric in his very colorful summary of the champion of Kirkwall's crazy tale. Isala chuckled lightly and sipped his swill looking at his cards. He had happened to tell them that he hadn't heard about Hawke and Varric had decided that Isala needed to hear the story. Most around the table had agreed, partly because they all loved to listen to Varric and his wild tales and partly because that tale was a good one.

Word about Hawke had reached Seheron but all it had said was that a human mage had killed the Arishok. Isala and his group had celebrated with a stolen cask of Tevinter wine that they had managed to grab during one of their raids. But he hadn't heard how it had happened or the impressive tale how Hawke fled his home with nothing but his family and worked his way up to a noble in Kirkwall. 

The ones by the table tonight were Varric, Cassandra, Sera, Blackwall, The Iron Bull, Isala, Cole, Dorian, Cullen, Felix and Teheron. Teheron had slid down between both Felix and Dorian and looked like he was right at home. Isala rather enjoyed the picture of a free Dalish elf sitting in between two Tevinter nobles looking smug as the cat who swallowed the canary. 

"Yes shit, he did. Then the Arishok was literary ripped to parts. The moments after Meredith and Orsino came bursting into the room, Fenris and Anders both by Hawke's side to stop his guts to spill all over to the floor." Varric said with wide hand gestures but without showing his hand in cards.

"Of what I remember, I managed to stagger all the way back home before Anders patched me together." A cheery voice said with a laugh as a large man stepped up behind Varric, all wild hair and scruffy beard dressed in a strange armor and wearing a staff on his back. 

"You and everyone else remember things differently Hawke." The deep voice came from the elf beside the human, as the hood fell down to show the shock white hair. "I more remember the abomination having to heal you right in front of the knight commander and nearly throwing both of you into the gallows."

"Justice is a spirit! Not making Anders an abomination." Teheron said and grinned where he sat between Dorian and Felix, one arm around each mage's shoulder. "But you are as cute as always Fen so you're all forgiven for it." He said playfully. 

The white haired elf made a face and Isala realized he knew him. Fenris, Danarius favorite slave before he ran away. They had only met a few times and that had been... interesting. He saw the green eyes land on him, the small sign of recognition and the tiny nod. Isala did the same back smiling just the slightest then looked curiously at the human that must be Hawke.

"Makers breath Hawke! I am getting to old for you sneaking up on me!" Varric said but laughed. 

"Oh please, you sent me the letter you should have expected me to pop up sooner or later." Hawke said playfully. 

Cassandra looked in between the wish to murder Varric and the wish to ask Hawke for a hug. Hawke just beamed at Varric then grinned cheeky at Teheron who blew him a kiss. Chairs was shuffled around and Hawke dropped down beside Varric while Fenris sat down more gracefully between Isala and Hawke. Isala smiled slightly at Fenris and fought down a slight blush noting that Fenris' ears were slightly tinted by punk by the tips too that didn't depend on the cold outside but no one laid focus on that for the moment.

"Inquisitor, meet the champion of Kirkwall." Varric said and motioned for Hawke.

"Though I don't much use that title." Hawke informed and laughed lightly. "It was fun as long as it got me free drinks in Kirkwall but those days are rather passed."

"And Fenris." Varric cut in and snorted. "The two of you have a few things in common." He said.

As if Isala didn't know, he knew very well what him and Fenris had in common and he hoped Varric didn't know what they had in common. Both him and Fenris pretended as if they didn't know what exactly they had in common, Fenris doing so rather convincingly.

"Is this because we are both elves?" Fenris asked unimpressed.

"I believe he is more aiming at that we are both from Tevinter, escaped, killed our former masters." Isala said calmly. "I also believe we have met, once or twice in Minrathous."

Fenris green eyes moved over him questioning for a moment then nodded with a slight smile. "Yes. I recall, you have changed, it suits you." Fenris said approving giving a curt nod.

So had Fenris, his hair was longer now, sitting in a high ponytail while his sides were shaved showing off the pointy ears perfectly. It was no longer a note of shame for either of the elves to show that they were elves. They were no longer slaves and their pointy ears was not a sign of slavery.

"My my! Fenris! Are you making friends before me? I am impressed and scandalized!" Hawke said with a laugh and kissed Fenris' cheek. Fenris immediately blushing but smiled over the kiss fondly. 

"Did you really do the magic thingy on the Ari...shoo thing?" Sera asked narrowing her eyes at Hawke. She wasn't interested in how Isala and Fenris knew each other, she wanted to hear the finish on the tale. 

"Arishok? Yeah I suppose I did. He growled at me, 'we will return.' Then I tore him a new one." Hawke said and grinned.

"You tore him in the middle." Fenris remarked with amusement. 

"And it was glorious!"

Hawke began telling a much wilder tale about the fight with help of Varric, pulling laughter out of all of them. Isala laughed when Hawke informed them the fight against the Arishok was a lot more running, dodging and jumping out of the way than Varric had described. Of course a very dramatic running, dodging and jumping out of the way mind them.

Cassandra asked a lot of questions as they kept telling Hawke's tale and Isala was frankly impressed by all the things Hawke had accomplished in Kirkwall. The mages in Kirkwall really seemed to have been one step away from the Qunari mages and he still approved of the rebellions. Hawke told them how they had fought and killed Corypheus before. Killed him dead, not just thinking that they had killed him, there had been a body.

"So, I don't know how much help I can be here, I would put my bets on Teheron, maybe Anders if anyone knew where he was, they both were there fighting him." Hawke said and shrugged. 

"And we don't have a clue either." Teheron said and shook his head. "Oh, don't look at me like that Cassy, of course I know where Anders is. He is my fiance." Teheron waved his hand dismissing. "But we really don't know about Corypheus, more than that we killed him with Hawke and he should have stayed dead."

"Don't call me that, and he's a criminal! You cannot just-" 

"Warden secrecy. Can't let you know." He said dismissive and grinned. Cassandra glared at him for that but didn't push it. 

"They are both still counted wardens, thus not allowed to say anything about it all. I however know someone, he is a grey warden, but he is more talkative of the warden secrets. He is hiding out somewhere in Crestwood." Hawke said and looked thoughtful as Varric dealed out new cards to everyone around the table.

"Crestwood it is then. I will go there as soon as possible. Tomorrow is a no though, because Josephine is forcing me to meet with a tailor. She and I have a disagreement on clothes it seems." Isala said mournfully and stroke his finger over his own chest frowning. He rather liked being without a shirt. 

"That woman must be stopped!" Dorian exclaimed with a laugh. "I say the more exposed elven chests the better. If only you didn't have this blasted cold here in the south that could have been a possibility."

"I don't know Dorian, you and Bull are maybe flashing more skin than enough to fill the inquisition quota." Isala said and grinned. 

Bull laughed loudly and shook his head. "If I try the shirt will stuck on my horns, it will look ridiculous. Sides, you and Dorian both appreciate when I flex a little." Bull said flexing his muscled. Isala actually did look at the Qunari beside him and smirked slightly. It wasn't exactly a lie that he appreciated Bull's shirtlessness.

"Ugh no!" Dorian protested and held his cards up in front of his eyes. 

Isala hummed and chuckled "Well, you don't have flat ears. Pointy ears does extend to your race." He informed taking another drink. It was possible that he was already a little tipsy or that wouldn't have been something he'd say.

They kept chatting, drinking and gambling for several hours more. Hawke and Fenris just mixed into their group as if they always had been around there, just like Teheron and Felix. Cards were good opportunities to get to know them all a little better and Isala had grown to love the nights with them all like this. The had gambled some in Haven too, but here was a nicer tavern to be honest.

Tales were tossed around from them all, Cassandra told them about the time with the dragon and the Divine per Blackwall's request. Varric told them about the time him and a friend had messed with Bartrand and one of his meetings. Bull told them a wild tale about him and the chargers, Felix informed them about a very embarrassing story about Dorian, alcohol and asking Alexius for a threesome, and so on and so on. 

"So, come on snapdragon, let us know something about you. We've all shared something except you and Fenris and he's next after you." Varric informed. 

Isala, who was rather drunk by now laughed lightly and rubbed the back of his neck. Oh he had several wild tales, most of them ended up with Tenek and himself in a ridiculous scenario. But the mention of Fenris pushed another tale to surface and he looked at the other elf grinning playfully. 

"I suppose I could tell you about the first time I smoked elfroot." He said looking at Fenris who choked on his wine with a slight flush to his face. "But then Fenris would have to approve because he is part of that tale... so it'll be a double tale for the both of us!" Isala said triumphing with a wide smile. 

"Wait you knew each other?" Hawke asked with wide eyes and everyone's attention was on the two elves.

"Danarius had many books on strange magic, old and forgotten and many books on dragons." Fenris said slowly looking thoughtful. "You may tell the tale." He finally decided "But it will count as mine as well." He stated.

Isala nodded agreeing with that and giggled in his glass "Yes, Tarsicius had a lot of contact with Danarius. I was very young. I don't know how young but there must be at least several years between me and you. I was sold do Tarsicius when I was fourteen so I was somewhere around fourteen or maybe fifteen."

"I was older, yes." Fenris agreed. "I do not know how much but I was an adult by then."

"Somehow I ended up in the gardens, Fenris was there too, and a third slave. The third one was the one who suggested it, said our master wouldn't even notice it and we'd get happy by it. I am not sure how we were talked into it but... well, the first time smoking elfroot is a rather... effective one." Isala said and blushed slightly. 

"Did they find out?" Cassandra asked staring at them in terror. 

"How high did you get?" Teheron asked leaning in curiously. 

Fenris coughed awkwardly and looked at a very interesting spot at the table and Isala rubbed the back of his neck and bit his lower lip. They had been really high, at least Isala had been. He was just lucky  he was so pretty.

"Very." Fenris said and huffed blushing. 

"Fenris didn't have his shirt, I think he was practicing with his sword... I err, I got handsy." 

"Makers balls! You god handsy with Fenris? And he didn't rip  you apart?" Varric exclaimed in glee "I need Isabela here for this! Or my publisher, This would make a good romance novel." He said scribbling on his parchments. 

The cards were long forgotten and they were all paying attention to the two elves from Tevinter. Hawke was actually grinning amused as if someone had just given him a early name day gift. Isala was aware Bull had leaned slightly closer, for a moment Isala wanted to straddle his hips and continue where they had been earlier before Josephine had nagged at him for his clothes. But he shook that thought off and focused on telling the story again.

"It wasn't as much ripping as... pounding..." He said and snickered. 

"Makers balls you had sex?" Hawke asked and stared at them then broke out laughing "You actually got high and had sex?" 

"I didn't get to do a lot of things, it seemed appropriate at the time." Fenris said thoughtfully. 

"I have no idea how we didn't get caught having sex. I know Tarsicius knew I was high when we left, he was rather upset with me over it. But, apparently I made very cute faces and I got away with it rather miraculously."

Teheron grinned amused and then got up excusing himself as he remembered having something important to do. Isala had a feeling that important thing to do was Anders and possibly elfroot. The rest of them stayed telling crazy stories and laughing. Now and then someone else would leave as the night was getting on in different stages of drunk. 

Cassandra friendly offered to show Hawke and Fenris to a guest room and Isala who had to keep one eye closed to even see his cards properly decided it was a brilliant idea to pat Bull on his thigh and lick his cheek before erupting in giggles since his cards were horrible and he had lost anyway. That made Felix chuckle and decide that it was bedtime for both Isala and Dorian. Cullen who sat beside Dorian agreed as Dorian had gotten rather handsy with the commander. 

Isala only protested a little over being hauled up to his feet away from Bull but Felix promised he could continue tomorrow when he was less drunk. Dorian hummed happily where he had his arm loosely wrapped around Cullen's middle speaking low about something that made Cullen blush madly. Cullen announced he'd get Dorian to bed but was very unclear on whom's bed before the both men left.

Isala wasn't sure how Felix managed to lead him out of the tavern, all the way up to his bedroom without falling on one single stair. But he was happy when his face dropped into the pillows and he waved Felix goodbye with his foot as he curled up trying to sleep. 


	19. 19: Please.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A meeting with the tailor and then a meeting from Bull. One of these meeting Isala REALLY enjoyed, the other, not so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pretty much just badly written smut. I'm not very good at writing smut and, well, I don't know why I wanted to give it a try but I did so well... Here you go... *apologizes and hides in a corner*
> 
> You really can just skip this if you want.

**9:41 Dragon -Skyhold-**

Tailors. Isala had just decided he hated tailors, that man had wanted to dress him in silk. Silk! Like if he was some expensive elven whore in Minrathous. Short to say, Isala had refused the silk and laces. He had been forced to argue the man and Josephine for hours to get them to agree with him on leather and that only went through because Leliana joined them and agreed with Isala that he suited in leather.

He had been given several sketches for different outfits that he was supposed to look through and then pick one that he liked, not that he liked either and would show that by drawing his own sketch and hand that one back instead and hope for the best.  

The thing was that he could probably have worn some of those outfits if he had got to pick the material himself. But they didn't let him do even that, so when they didn't compromise, he didn't compromise. Besides he had grown comfortable in having his chest bare again, it was how it had been in Seheron and it was how he wanted to look, he had a fine body and if nobles were focused on looking at his chest they payed less mind to what things he said or did wrong.

The fact that Josephine clearly wasn't approving the outfit made the outfit even more desirable for him. It wasn't that he didn't like Josephine, he liked the ambassador a lot, he simply didn't want her or anyone else to force him to be dressed in certain ways. It was a matter of needing that limited freedom of choice to not freak out at a daily basis.

It was some hours after lunch and he had spent all his day with Josephine, Leliana and the bloody tailor. He was happy to walk up the stairs to his room to get a much needed nap. He really needed to figure something out with sleeping arrangements, maybe he could crash a night in Sera's room just to catch up with his need for sleep then adopt a cat or something.

As he walked up the stairs he knew at once he wasn't alone. The scent of Qunari was hinting in the room and he smiled just slightly. Yesterday resurfaced in his minds, Bull pushing him to a wall and how close they had sat close in the tavern. He was pretty sure he had licked Bull's face too before being dragged to bed by Felix. He knew it was Felix because there had been a cookie on his nightstand in the morning. 

The Qunari sat on his bed and Isala looked at him with amusement as he came up the last couple of steps. He still held his papers in hand, forgotten for the moment as something more interesting had just presented itself to him. Ever since his little breakdown the other day, Bull wasn't as intimidating to him. Well, perhaps that was more a result of Bull pushing him to the wall rather than the breakdown itself.

"So listen, I've caught the hints, I know what you're saying, you want to ride the Bull. Can't say I blame you." Bull said as he stood up from his bed. "But, I don't know if you know what you're asking, don't know if you're ready for it."

Isala smiled at Bull then cocked an eyebrow at him "Is that so?" He asked and leaned slightly against the reeling, not backing when the larger man approached him. He realized he hadn't told Bull he had been with others of his race before and that the size wouldn't be too much because he had already given it a try, many times actually. This could however be rather interesting. "I'm fairly sure with some oil and preparation it would work."

"See, you say that but you really don't know what that means." Bull said standing close and put his hands on Isala's hips, thumbs stroking over the naked skin of his sides. 

Isala dropped his papers on the floor, they really wasn't that important. Instead he stroke his hands over Bull's impressive chest slowly letting the dragon in him surface and blend with him. "Do you intend to keep yapping all day or show me exactly what you mean?" He asked in a taunting manner.

Bull grabbed his wrists with one hand moved him back to the wall. Isala grunted as his back hit the stone and Bull easily pulled up his arms over his head pinned in one hand to the wall while the other remained on his hip. Isala took a deep breath trying to calm his quickly beating heart, the rushing blood in his ears and down his pants.

"Last chance." Bull said leaning in so he spoke close to a pointed ear.

Isala chewed his bottom lip. Having Bull hold him pinned like this was edging between frightening and exciting. He knew how nice it was giving himself over during sex if it was consensual, especially to someone who clearly was good at it. He let looser on the predator inside him, a second opinion on the matter couldn't hurt and his dragon side had a very good sense of real danger and imagined danger. The second part in him approved of this and that was enough to let his fear wash away to nothing more than excited nervousness. 

"This better be a lot harder damn soon or I might just have to take care of myself." He purred back with a grin. 

Bull grinned as well and wrapped his arm around his middle pulling him up from the floor and clashed their lips together in a ravaging kiss. Isala quickly dove into the kiss and allowed Bull's tongue into his mouth. There was a struggle for dominance, Isala wasn't one for just blindly submitting to just anyone, that applied in the bedroom as well. He wouldn't submit, well at least not until he had made Bull fight for it first.

It was a bit uncomfortable how he had to tip toe not to hang by his wrists in Bull's strong hands and he quick and agile pulled his legs up and wrapped them around Bull's waist. Bull easily compensated in letting his wrists go and instead grabbed his ass while pushing him a bit higher leaned him properly against the wall. Isala groaned at the squeeze of his ass and the feeling of Bull's bulge against him. 

Bull easily moved his kisses down over his neck, kisses turning into bites and sucking and Isala growled and let his head lull back against the cool stonewall behind him trying to catch a few calming breaths. He canted his hips slightly trying to get a better feel on Bull's bulge but the Qunari held him in an iron grip keeping him from succeeding and Isala whined but the next moment moaned as Bull sank his teeth in the junction between his neck and shoulders.

Isala was even more happy about his open chested outfit when Bull's tongue swirled down over his chest. Isala grabbed his horns for leverage fingers quickly searching the horns out for that spot he knew would be there. Bull biting a bit harder than the other times told him he had found it and he quickly tugged Bull closer and drove the flat of his tongue to the spot. 

Bull growled to that and slid him down to the floor. Isala whined audible over being on the floor again but the Qunari quickly atoned by leaning in capturing his lips in another deep kiss, all tongue and teeth before turning them both around pushing Isala towards the bed. Isala just allowed the manhandling while focusing on trying to beat Bull's slick tongue in his mouth. 

He almost thought he had made it but Bull pulled back instead and gave his ass another squeeze. Get naked and down on the bed." He growled husky. "I am the one in charge so don't even think what I know you're thinking little dragon." 

Isala hummed grinning and quickly slipped out of the west, pants and his smalls before following his order and laid back on the bed on his back stretching out like a lazy cat. His entire insides was a bundle of nervous excitement and want but he knew how to not show them and instead just followed his predatory side's lead. Splaying out showing off his entire body and his hard cock was to play on the idea he wasn't submitting to bull, not yet.

"Look at you, all ready and longing for me." Bull murmured and stepped closer still fully dressed. "Splaying out like a cat in the sun."

Isals was tempted to make a whining noise over the Qunari being over dressed, but large fingers stroke over his hips and then teasingly over his cock and he groaned instead and closed his eyes as he took a deep breath trying to calm himself back down even if his cock was twitching eagerly by the feeling of Bull's fingers. 

"Ah fuck... Bull..." he moaned arching his back off the bed trying to get more of his hand on his cock. 

Bull quickly pushed down on his chest so his back was stuck to the mattress. Isala made a noise between a half growl and a whine of frustration as Bull just continued to trail his fingers leisurely over his hips. "In here, I am in charge. You get what I give and you don't get to cum until I say you can. Understood?" Bull asked calmly as ever with an assuring smile.  

Isala looked up at Bull with wide eyes but then snickered "Understood." He hummed happily and tried to give his cutest smile as he possibly could to get Bull to stop teasing him and start touching him.

Bull just laughed and leaned in nibbling the tip of his ear making Isala mewl as his ears were, as all elves, very sensitive. "Good boy. Now roll over." Bull said clearly not falling for his charms. Or maybe he had, he was with him in the bedroom wasn't he? 

Isala grinned and quickly obliged, rolling over on his stomach instead, craning his neck trying to see him but Bull put his hand to the back of his head then pressed his face back into the mattress. Isala whined unhappy wiggling his ass to try to get attention where he wanted it. Bull chuckled and slid his knee between Isala's legs and he didn't have any other choice than to spread them wide feeling the cotton of Bull's pants to his ass, if he wiggled slightly even to his sac. 

Bull began kissing his back and his free hand that wasn't keeping his face against the bed stroke over his back slowly, mapping out his muscles and Isala sighed. Sure it was nice but not what he wanted right now. He wiggled his toes slightly an tried to shift closer to the leg between his own legs and groaned as his most sensitive bits was rubbed against Bull's knee.

That resulted in a slap to his ass that drew a moan out of him as the slight pain mingled with pleasure and rushed straight to his aching hard cock under him making it throb needy. He quickly shifted again to get a repeat which made Bull change his grip from the back of his head to the back of his neck to keep him on place face first in the mattress. 

"Buuuuull!" He whined unhappy at the change. "Bull stop being so slo- Ah! Kaffas! Yes!" He cried out as Bull without warning pushed in a slicked up finger in his hole. It was just this side of too large and too sudden but the oil and some moves back and forth quickly eased the pain of the sudden stretch leaving room for nothing but pleasure.

He growled, hissed and snarled as Bull thrust the finger inside him, far too slow to be satisfying but deep hand hard enough to force him to bite the sheets not to sob. Isala knew this pace, it was gentle and trying and he remembered how entirely slow Tenek had been with him the first time. Tenek had been afraid he'd break him with the smallest touch and Bull was probably doing the same.

"Fuck you sound like a dragon too! Do you know how hot that is?" Bull growled moving his fingers with a bit more force. "Keep making those sounds ataashi."

Isala growled and moaned grabbing the sheets harder with his hands, desperate to gain purchase somewhere. Bull moved his finger in a hard thrush and crooked it slightly, just the right way. Isala cried out a half dragon like cry and a loud moan in one. The sound pulled a loud growling from Bull and a hard bite to his shoulder. 

"Bull... fuck! Please." He whined needy tilting his hips in time with the move on Bull's hand to get the finger in deeper. "Bull, Bull, Bull! Please!"

He whined when the finger left him and was about to make his complaints out loud but then the finger was replaced by hot slick tongue and he cried out loudly again in the strangled dragon like way and bit hard into the covers to shut himself up only to have Bull's hand still by his neck pull roughly in his dreads. 

"Harder... please more! Bull please!" He begged loudly with his head thrown back where Bull had a hard grip of his hair.

He tried to move his head back to the mattress to bite it but couldn't and his begging mewling voice began spilling out begging nonsense as Bull began fucking him quick and clever with his tongue deep inside of him. His body began trembling of need and his cock already making a mess under him by the precum pooling warm and sticky under his stomach. 

Heat was creeping on him and his muscles tensing slightly. It wasn't enough to make him explode just yet but Bull was getting there and he was getting there a lot faster than Isala was used to. Usually he wasn't reduced to a mewling mess until he was just at the edge. Maybe he would reflect on that later but right now his brain had blown clear of information other than what one needed during sex. 

Bull continued his onslaught of Isala's ass, his used tongue lapping, pushing delving deep and prodding just the places that craved to be prodded and pushed. Isala's mewling and begging turned into a blabber in a mix of languages, his brain simply couldn't choose what language to use so he just used them all in hope that one of them would work. 

Something hit a note when he cried something out in Qunlat as Bull hit his pleasure spot again because suddenly Bull pulled his tongue out and flipped him around to his back and his tongue was replaced by two fingers stretching him wide and Isala howled out a throaty moan and more nonsense blabber, only in Qunlat this time as it seemed to get him what he wanted. 

"Beg for it ataashi." Bull growled against his ear, one hand working on his own pants.

_"please I want you inside me! Ah! Fuck me deep and hard until I don't know anything else!"_ He shouted in Qunlat to egg bull on.  _"Show me you're a fucking Qunari!"_ He moaned loudly and pushed back against Bull's fingers for every thrust now that Bull wasn't pinning him down.

Bull replied by growling pushing in a third finger stretching his already abused hole wider as Bull's pants fell to his ankles and his free hand instead wrapped around Isala's cock stroking him steadily. Isala moaned and went back to clawing the sheets with his head thrown back. 

Bull's hand and fingers were threatening to make him edge and he began blabber again feeling his muscles tense violently and the heat threatening to explode, and just like that Bull stopped, his fingers holding to the base of his cock choking down what was about to happen and the harsh pace of his fingers in his ass slowed down to nothing more than a frustrating too slow. Isala gasped, whined and moaned all in one staring wide eyed and confused up at the Qunari who stood on his knee on the bed smirking smugly down at him before leaning in and kissed his lips. 

"Not until I say so ataashi." Bull reminded. "Understood?"

Isala nearly sobbed because he had been so close he could taste it, if Bull had just let him continue another few seconds. Instead he took a deep breath and nodded with a shiver and swallowing hard as the feeling slowly sank away building up threatening for the next time and Isala nodded again "Understood." He breathed out taking another deep breath. 

Bull grinned and let his cock go so it fell with a slap to his stomach. Bull slowly stroke his large hand over Isala's chest, smearing out the precum over his taunt muscles making them glisten slightly in the golden light of the dusk that fell over them. Isala whined and closing his eyes trying to focus. When he regained enough of himself to hold himself back he nodded again and Bull quickened his fingers in him in but not nearly rough enough movements.

Isala whined unhappy by the slow rhythm and growled viciously when Bull pulled his fingers out only leaving the tips of two of them in. Bull just chuckled and leaned over and kissed his lips. "Patience Ataashi." He said calmly. 

Isala not having anything else to let his frustrations out on practically devoured Bull's lips and wrapped his arms around his neck pulling him closer and his legs wrapped around Bull's hips trying to shift invitingly to him, wanting more. Isala had no patience in bed and he had no clue how Bull was still not fucking him silly to the mattress, Bull must have self control like some kind of miracle person for ignoring all the dragon smell Isala knew was seeping out of him.

"Do you know what Ataashi means?" Bull asked and took a deep breath against his neck. Isala quickly nodded and moaned because he felt the tip of Bull's cock just by his hole. Isala quickly nodded again to show he meant it and clawed on Bull's back hoping it would make the other man hurry up. "Let me hear those noises Ataashi." Bull growled  by his ear. 

Isala growled and snarled at him in his dragon like way without hesitation. He'd do just about anything right now to get more of Bull. Clawing red marks over the Qunari's back and biting his shoulder. His sounds turned into needy moans when the head of Bull's cock began slowly stretching him out because fuck he was large. He was either larger than Tenek or it had been a while since Isala had been sexually active. Well both possibly, but this felt good, not too painful but he damn wished Bull would hurry up already. 

Had it been his first time he was aware that the slow penetration had been needed, but Isala was far from Qunari virgin. Isala had been plowed by Tenek so many times he didn't keep count and with the thorough prep Bull had already given he'd be able to take bull all at once. It'd be tight but it'd work without tears and too much pain.

He tried saying as much but his words just turned into wanton begging and blabbering as Bull wrapped his hand back around his cock and stroke it. But, Isala knew his own tricks so he shifted up both hands and grabbed Bull's horns searching for the spot then dragged his fingers to them while dragging his head down hissing dragon like to Bulls's ear. 

The moment after he howled loudly and moaned out his pleasure when Bull for a moment lost it and snapped his hips forwards inside him in a powerful surge. The stretch was just slightly too much and too fast but the pain quickly shifted into pleasure as Bull growled and bit him in the shoulder for the stunt and Isala couldn't find it in his body to be anything but smug about that. 

"Bad boy." The Qunari growled and pulled out, then snapped back in again quickly and with a toe curling strength.

"Ah! Please tell me there's more." He groaned loudly knowing it should. Bull couldn't possibly be all the way inside. "Ah! Bull! More, please I need more!" 

Bull looked momentarily impressed then pulled out and snapped in all the way to the hilt. Isala cried out and with a few more rough deep thrushes he was reduced to blabbering Qunlat nothings while grabbing and stroking the spot's on Bull's horns causing the Qunari to pound him harder and faster while joining in panting and moaning as Isala.

Isala slipped one hand down to stroke himself as Bull had stopped that, but Bull quickly snatched it back and laced their fingers against the mattress instead leaving Isala's throbbing cock to be satisfied by nothing more than slapping to his stomach by the rough movement of Bull's pounding into him. However the rough kisses, all teeth and tongue, the pounding and the groans and moans coming from them both was soon pushing him back towards the edge, so close he could taste it coming.

This time he also actually sobbed when Bull stopped the orgasm and hot tears fell over his cheeks as his body desperately longed for release. But Bull just grinned and claimed his lips again teasingly slow just holding still buried deep in his ass.  

"Told you you couldn't come until I say you could Ataashi. You just played me like a fiddle, now you have to stand the consequences for it." Bull rumbled husky. 

"Bull please." He whined trying to move where he laid pinned under him, trying to get some sort of much needed friction between the still hand and the large cock up his ass. "Please! I will be good for you just let me cum." He whined, whole body shaking by the two denied orgasms. 

"Mhmm, you beg really pretty." Bull purred approving. "Keep begging and I might consider."

"I will be so good Bull, please? I will swallow what I can of you and let you bind me and anything you want, just let me come." Isala begged tears still rolling over the denied need. 

It was seldom the predatory part allowed begging and submitting but they both knew Bull was there for pleasure and this could be ended any moment if this turned intolerable for real. However submitting to Bull right now was good, submitting to Bull wasn't a prison, it was a pleasure and he didn't mind this. 

Bull slowly began rolling his hips, moving in him again but his hand still held an iron grip on is cock to keep him from coming. Isala was torn between what noises to make, whining or moaning so it became some middle thing as he threw his head back. Bull somehow managed to hit his spot with every slow roll and it was truly maddening. 

"Pleasepleaseplese Bull. Anything! Please just let me come while you fuck me." Isala sobbed out, fingers clawing his back again, nails digging into the grey flesh desperately.

"Give me more sounds Ataashi?"

Isala let out several dragon like noises without giving care what kinds of noises, just did what he was asked. Bull quickly began moving his hand again and soon they were back to the merciless pounding that Isala was quite sure he'd feel for days and fairly certain rearranged his insides. He just didn't have it in him to be concerned about anything but the raw pleasure he felt. 

When the heat threatened the third time Isala was a shaking crying mess trying to stop himself from spilling over to be good for Bull. He was begging messily in Qunlat, no longer sure what he was grabbing onto only knew it was Bull and finally Bull leaned close and murmured by his ear. 

"Come for me my dragon." 

Isala didn't need more and he practically exploded in Bull's hand screaming loud enough to wake the dead all the way in Nevarra. Hot blinding heat washed through his body, blinding him, extracting him from his own body by the intensity from it all. He limply just slacked under Bull as the Qunari finished inside him without him barely even noticing. 

Isala didn't really remembered what happened next, just that when he returned to it he was curled up comfortably in his blankets and he had never been more content that it was night time and just fell back asleep smiling like an idiot.


	20. 20: Judgement of Gereon Alexius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexius needs to be judged for what he did and Isala isn't entirely certain how to judge the man who only wished to keep his family alive.

**9:41 Dragon -Skyhold-**

Isala had woken up by the sun in his face. How the fuck he had slept all night without waking up once was beyond him, (or maybe not, he had a feeling fucking was exactly the reason) but for the first time in what felt like ages of he had actually slept and had awoken energized in a good mood. He just laid there on his stomach for a long while pondering things. Life, naps, what to do of today, what to do of what he had done with Bull yesterday. 

He was damn sore but it could be worse, not nearly enough for being in need of a healing potion but he'd most likely be feeling Bull for several days forwards. Not that he really minded, that had been some good sex and he hoped for more. When he moved to get washed up and dressed he was aware he moved just a little funky and he walked around in his room for a while to make sure it wasn't too obvious before he ventured down the stairs to join the world.

He yelped as he sat down to eat breakfast almost flying back up again, startling Cassandra and dismissed it flushing as sitting on his knife. While Cassandra seemed to believe that he had actually sat on his knife and had a hint of concern in her face, Varric was shooting him an amused smirk and Bull looked awfully smug. Isala just fought his ears to stay still and not twitch and trying to force the blush away from his face. 

After breakfast there was a meeting in the war room where he couldn't find a good way to stand and kept shifting back and forth on his feet, shifting between leaning to the table by his hips and by his elbows. Leliana watched him looking amused and finally he huffed glaring at her. She seemed to know everything going on in Skyhold, but what had happened had been in his bedroom had stayed in his bedroom and he wasn't sure how she would have found that out.

"What?" He finally asked and sighed putting a marker out for Leliana's agents to find Sera's bees. 

"Oh nothing. How are you feeling?" She asked mischief in her eyes. 

Oh she knew and he looked at her with warning narrowed eyes. He didn't want his private life spilled out for everyone. What him and Bull did in the bedroom was their thing, they weren't even a couple. But by the way both Josephine and Cullen looked up from clipboard and map in confusion and concern Isala drew the conclusion that she hadn't shared her information. He gave her a curt nod as a thank you for that.

"I'm fine, I slept all night and now I'm having an excessive amount of energy. I was thinking about going to the Hinterlands, there are some smugglers of red lyrium there who need to be dealt with." He said thoughtfully.

Lying always had come easy to him. Slaves were taught in secret by their parents by an early age to learn how to lie properly to please their masters or to keep things hidden from their masters. A slave who got caught lying got punished for it. So, he had learnt how to lie, how to smile and say the right things. Handy when it came to times like these.

"You will have to take the matter with magister Alexius this week as well." Josephine said from her papers. "We cannot wait any longer or it will start to seem like incompetence."

Isala chewed his lip and nodded. He had been scooting Alexius judgement up for quite the time now. The thing was, he didn't know what to do with it. Alexius had acted to save Felix, save his son, it had been done wrong but... it hadn't been out of evil purposes. "We will take that today then. I will have you know I know nothing of your justice systems." He said honest. "I know what would have been done to him in Tevinter but not how you would have handled it here.

"You do as you seem fit. People will however judge you on your actions so... think it through before you act... What would be the actions in Tevinter?" Josephine asked curiously.

Isala sighed and placed Josephine's marker somewhere over Orlais for one of the nobles that had asked them to help out with the successor of something. Cullen's marker went over some mission of obtaining a new sort of mount called dracolisk that had caught Isala's attention.

"Tevinter would brand him tranquil and sell him as a slave." He said thoughtfully. "If he did something against the magisterium the same way he did against us."

"They brand their mages tranquil?" Cullen asked surprised.

"Only those who does things too big to be ignored. It would show up that magister Alexius all this time very surprisingly was a maleficarum. If Alexius would have too many contacts and friends, the Archon would make sure he was... removed."

"Assassins?" Leliana asked curiously.

"Yes."

"Well... neither of those options would be the best here..." Josephine said slowly "At least not selling him into slavery that would... very much not show a direction of the inquisition that people would follow."  

Isala nodded stood up straight. "I will consider this, I will be ready in an hour." with that he finished the meeting to let Josephine get things ready. As he stepped out to the main hall he silently leaned to a wall just watching the throne. 

He didn't like it. It wasn't a problem with how it looked, a red chair with the inquisition logo, it was just that _he_  wouldn't like any throne. Thrones weren't meant for people like him. People like him worked in the hidden among the shadows, people like him were the people who pushed the right candidates towards the thrones and killed the wrong ones. It was unnerving that he was supposed to switch side. He wondered silently who would ever actually want the responsibilities of a throne.

**"Nobles taught to believe them above others."** The predator in him helpfully gave him and Isala sighed, that didn't help him much at all.  _"I am no noble, I was a slave then we were warriors."_ He thought in reply and crossed his arms where he stood.  **"We are free. This throne will help other people into freedom."** Isala nodded slightly, it was true, they could change things in this position. 

He knew that posing as if he owned the place would be important. People needed to believe that he believed that he was the ruler of this place.  **"You are."** Isala huffed.  _"You are being very talkative today."_ He noted and scratched on his bare chest and looked down realizing he had a bite mark to his left side and smiled fondly over it, remembering Bull's teeth that at some point had made them.  **"You are well rested, I do not have to focus on keeping you from falling of pure exhaustion. I approve of the Qunari, he is not like them."**

Isala sighed dramatically. Now the voice in his head gave him dating tips, wasn't this just brilliant.  _"It is nothing serious. Just sex."_ He informed, because that was all he could accept right now. He wasn't ready for a relationship. Ten years and he still wasn't ready for serious.  **"As you wish."** Was all he got back and he smiled slightly. Maybe one day he would be ready, but it wasn't today. 

He just stayed there leaned to the wall in the shadows watching how several more nobles popped in and there was whispers about Alexius. Dorian and Felix showed up beside him and he nodded to them in greeting. Felix looked worried to say the least, not that Isala blamed him, hearing just some of the rumors these nobles spread the short time he had stood there would have him fear for anyone's life. 

"Felix." He said calmly to him. 

"Isala... I know he's not worth it but..." Felix began but Isala held his hand up to hush him.

"I intend no execution today Felix. Nor tranquilization, I was thinking maybe forcing him to wear unfashionable clothes the rest of his life but I really can't come up with anything worse. Maybe have him dust the library" He said thoughtfully. 

Felix visibly relaxed then hugged him and Isala smiled and hugged back. He maybe hadn't known Felix for very long but he counted him friend, part of the new little net of people that he cared about. Dorian laughed lightly at the suggestion and Isala grinned. He knew he couldn't ACTUALLY go for those two things but he knew he wasn't about to kill someone for caring too much about his family. 

Alexius was lead into the room and Isala took a deep breath and moved away from Felix's hug. He would have to improvise some sort of punishment, he couldn't just have Alexius run loose and encourage others to follow his footsteps. he smiled at Felix and Dorian a last time before adopting a steely emotionless mask.

He strode purposefully through the room to the throne and sat down. Had to bite his tongue not to hiss or squirm as he was reminded why sitting down was a bad choice today. Alas, he managed to fend it off as quick as it had came and he sank down, putting more weight to his back and tailbone before throwing one leg over the other looking down at Alexius. 

 "You recall Gereon Alexius of Tevinter. Ferelden has given him to us as acknowledgement of your aid. The formal charges are apostasy, attempted enslavement, and attempted assassination - on your own life no less. Tevinter has disowned and stripped him of his rank. You may judge the former magister as you see fit." Josephine said.

Isala snorted amused as he thought about the absurdity of the situation. "The irony does not pass me to be the one in charge of your judgement Alexius. Would you prefer me to follow Tevinter standards? Brand you tranquil and sell you off as a servant?" He asked looking at him interested. He already knew he wouldn't do that but it was always good to tell what _could_ have happened in another situation. 

"I couldn't save my son. Do you think my fate matters to me?" Alexius asked and seemed genially not caring about it at all.

"Oh but for the love of." Isala grumbled annoyed, as if he would just let Felix die when he could help it. "You don't actually think I let Felix die because of your stupidity do you?" He asked and crossed his arms.  **"You are sitting as a five year old."** the voice in his head reminded and Isala let his arms drop to the armrests instead.

Alexius just looked confused and Isala dismissively waved his hand towards where Felix and Dorian was standing making everyone pretty much look at them and Felix smiled, just the shadow of a nervous smile but a smile nonetheless. Alexius stared in shock and Isala smiled slightly.

"Felix..." Alexius said in astonishment.

"Father." Felix said calmly but stayed at his place. 

A sudden idea flared up in his minds. Alexius once was a good researcher. Well, he still must be to have made his time magic work, but that could be much more useful for the inquisition than the researchers they had and Felix would be able to still see his father if he wished for it.

"Alexius you screwed up. But you did so rather impressively. To atone for your deeds you will be researching for the inquisition. Guarded mind you, I am no idiot. What coin you make will be split between the free mages and Felix for obvious reason. You will also owe me a personal favor for saving Felix's life."

"Research? Very well then..." Alexius said trying to keep his surprise at bay. "And what may the favor be?" 

Both Felix and Dorian lit up by the judgement and Isala relaxed some. To see that on his two friends made it worth it, he also noted Vivienne give an approving nod from the balcony. He stood up and walked over closer to Alexius and spoke so only they would hear of the favor. He hadn't been the one thinking it up, the predator in his head had been the one who thought it up.

"My former master had a son, when Tarsicius died all property of his was given to his son. Slaves included. Send him a message to bring the right papers for my formal release and I will allow Felix to visit you whenever pleases him. Do we have a deal?"

"Indeed. Given parchment and quill I can have it ready for the evening." 

"Excellent, I assume you will not be too much of a problem? If you try what you did again your judgement will not be as easy as this."

"Of course."


	21. 21: Taarsidath-an halsaam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brace yourselves, here is a flashback! (And some dragons!)

**9:31 Dragon -Seheron-**

"The dragon is subdued and restrained magister Tarsicius. What would you have us do?"

The mercenary asked as he came over, a nasty gnash over his face from the fight with said dragon. Pulchra still wasn't sure what they were doing there and he was getting more and more worried for every moment, he knew his masted wanted him to use his ability but not what it was meant to do. He begged silently to the maker that his master wouldn't force him to fight a dragon. He would be dead it that was the case and Pulchra really didn't want to die. He was considering begging but kept quiet for a little while longer.

"Open some wounds on the dragon and drain the sacrifices. We will do this now. Pulchra come here my pet."

Pulchra loyally padded to his masters side and followed him into the clearing terrified out of his minds. The only thing that kept him from begging master Tarsicius to let him do anything else was that anything else would mean being drained of blood and that would mean an even faster death than fighting a dragon. He looked at the large dragon laying on the ground chained and sleeping. He shivered and quickly made sure he was closer to his master, trying to find safety. 

He knew the other three elves were being killed and drained as they walked into the clearing and he shivered, he had known those three elves for years now and knowing that they were being killed to fuel a spell to his master was... unnerving. But they belonged to Tarsicius and his master was allowed to do what he wanted to do with them all, Pulchra was just lucky he was so pretty. 

"Pulchra, you have to stand still where I tell you. When I sign you must do as you were taught." Tarsicius grabbed his jaw and tilted his head upwards. Pulchra quickly adverted his gaze loyally. "It's for you that I am doing this, remember? Why do we do this?" He asked calmly.

"Yes master." Pulchra said glancing frightened at the dragon. "Because you love me master and I love you." He said loyally. Tarsicius nodded his approval and kissed him. Pulchra quickly returned the kiss trying not to panic, maybe if the kiss was good enough his master would tell him it was all made up and they could go back home again.

His master guided him to a spot just beside the bleeding dragon's head and Pulchra shivered as a puff of air came from the large beast and he prayed silently again to the maker, begging him to have mercy even if he didn't deserve it. He nervously shifted from one foot to the other and swallowed hard then bit his lip trying not to seem too frighten. This was for Tarsicius, Tarsicius had picked him because he loved him, a mark how important Pulchra was for him.

Pulchra took a shaky breath and stood there wide eyed as his master began casting his spell. The blood from his fellow slaves was twirling around his masters hands and then through the air, rushing around him and the dragon. The corrupted sticky feeling of blood magic and death wrapped around his elven body and he had to keep himself from retching. 

The dragon in front of him opened up a yellow eye, then the other. Pulchra yelped but the fear of what his master would do to him if he backed away was greater than the fear of the dragon so he stayed put. The dragon slowly smacked one huge clawed paw to the ground, clawing the dirt, then another, then it slowly stood up easily breaking it's chains towering over him. 

It let out a deafening roar and Pulchra screamed by fear and put his hands over his ears while shaking violently. His master signaled him it was time and Pulchra acted in panic and let loose a shout letting his abilities loose. He pulled on the blood around him, not like his master pulled on blood, he pulled on blood the way of the reaver, clawing into every cut and wound from the dragon, demanding the blood to fill himself with stamina and health.

At first it was a rush as always, energizing and healing little cuts and bruises he had. Then slowly it began to hurt. The magic in Tarsicius spell was doing something to his abilities and he couldn't stop it. The pain increased for every second it happened. A scream tore out of his mouth  as the pain was slowly wrapping his insides, clawing as his ability was clawing at the dragon and he felt his tears burn down his cheeks. 

However his sounds were drowned out by the sounds of the dragon screeching in horrific pain, just as himself. Isala tried to cut the connection tried desperately to stop the blood from flooding into him. A reaver could draw on the life inside the blood of his enemies to heal himself, the blood he was drawing from the dragon now was trying to heal him but there was nothing left to heal and instead it somehow began twisting into pain.

He fell to his knees, the screeches of the dragon ringing in his head and his own voice was growing hoarse but he barely even noticed in the blind frenzy of pain and blood around him. After an eternity of nothing else than the pain it slowly began to fade. When the world returned to him he was standing with all four to the ground. His body in pain and somehow he felt wrong, like if his skin didn't fit him any longer. 

He realized he was still screaming and abruptly stopped. Clawing in the dirt of the ground trying to understand what was wrong but couldn't find it. His body was still throbbing and aching but it wasn't a raw pain anymore and it was rapidly passing, leaving his body in itches and the feeling of wrongness washing over him even worse, as if something had been wrongly adjusted while he was screaming.

He curled his claws in the dirt. No, not claws, fingers, he had fingers he knew that, but it felt like there should be claws. Everything around him was so much clearer, the colors had exploded, there was so many colors he had never seen before. How could there be so many shades of green without him ever noticing it? So many colors of blue in the sky? Had it always been like that? Maybe he had died, or maybe been so near death that he had died for a little while and come back. 

He coughed and blinked still staring at all the colors in the world. He could hear his master call to him but he didn't care, other things were important right now, like the sky, he wanted to fly in it. Well that was not entirely true, he wanted to hear what his master needed but he wasn't allowed to listen, something blocked that out for him and he could only think, or rather hear someone think about flying for him. 

His master sat on one knee in front of him and grabbed his jaws again tilting his head upwards. Checking his eyes then lifted his lips to look in his mouth which made Pulchra growl involuntary. He stared with huge eyes at his master and began babble apologizes and pressed his head to Tarsicius hand in an apologetic manner.

"I'm sorry master I didn't-" He mewled in panic.

"Shh my pet. That is to be expected we will tame that dragon in you as we did you isn't that so?" 

His master kissed his lips again and Pulchra quickly pressed forwards against his lips. His master would fix him, his master would fix him because he loved him and cared for him enough to fix him when he was broken instead of just killing him. 

**"He does NOT love you."** Pulchra yelped and shuffled back from Tarsicius frightened by the voice. His master frowned over the action and pulled up a collar before grabbing his hair tugging him close again. It was a hard pull and Pulchra winced at the pain of it. His master put the collar around his neck and attached the leash to it. He deserved it, he had misbehaved.  **"You are a person, not a pet. Kill him for trying to chain you."** The voice growled in his head. "Stop! Shut up! Shut up!" He screamed out loud and grabbed to his own hair closing his eyes hard trying to force the mystery voice to shut up.  _  
_

The voice kept quieted and his master looked at him with a frown and concern but said nothing, just tugged him up from the ground by the leash. Pulchra nearly fell over by the sudden tug but balanced last moment and followed loyally after his master. He would prove he was good, he didn't need to be leashed, he would ignore the odd voice in his head. 

As they walked back to the tavern where they had room for the night, the voice kept telling him untruths about his master. Things he refused to believe. His master loved him and he loved his master that was how things worked and how they had worked his entire life.

Tarsicius didn't take him that night. Instead he had to sleep curled up in a cage, curled up like a dog to fit and he felt lonely. Never had his master payed so little care towards him. While he slept the voice showed him things. Showed him the imagery of soaring the sky, the endless seas, the green grass fields, the joy to fly where he wished. The voice sang of freedom, showed him how others had it, how free men and women lived. Showed how life was supposed to be.

When morning came and his master was dragging him by the leash towards the docks Pulchra for the first time looked around and could see. He saw the people doing what they felt for, working, trading, living... he saw a boy kiss a girl bashfully, a soft giggle and a flush. He saw what he had never seen before and he wanted. Oh he really wanted what they all had, wanted what he could see around him.

More than once did his master have to pull the leash because Pulchra had stopped to stare. The fifth time the leash was pulled he got annoyed. He wanted to see everything, he wanted to see all the colors, the people. **"This is wrong. You are supposed to be like them. You must see this."** The voice calmly prodded him.  _"I... see... but I am a slave, it is not my place."_ The voice scoffed at him and he sighed deeply, broken, but moved on in silence.

**"Be ready."** The voice suddenly said in his head and Pulchra huffed padding after his master and his guards.  _"For what?"_ He snapped demanidng and annoyed. Patience already shortening over the things he saw, the things he wanted and the things he couldn't have.  **"Look at your feet."** Pulchra looked down at his feet confused, but he couldn't see them.

Mist was covering them. All the way up his knees and he stared at his feet that he no longer could see, tried to wiggle his toes, then looked around him. The mist was quickly turning into a fog and within moments there was nothing to see but shadows in it. Someone moved past him in it but didn't stop and he didn't pay attention to it. He suddenly knew what he was to be ready for. 

His master pulled the chain for the sixth time and he let out a frustrated growl over it. A very dragon like growl but he didn't care about the strange sound.  **"Do it. Use the fog, focus and you can see in it, I will help you."** Pulchra took a deep breath and focused then slid his daggers up. No one else was leashed like him, it wasn't fair. He was a person not a pet. 

He wrapped his arm around the chain and pulled roughly. His master stumbled into view and two fast slashes later his hands were covered in blood. The mercenary group there to guard his master shouted to each other and he charged them, not stopping until they were all dead. He could see them in the fog, or feel them, it was hard to explain but he knew exactly where they were. 

What he also knew was that he couldn't stop until he knew they were all dead and when they were he couldn't resist the laughter bubbling up in his chest. He had killed Tarsicius, and he wasn't sure if he was supposed to laugh or cry so he settled on laughing. He was free and he had no idea what that meant other than a voice in his head telling him that it was something good.

* * *

**9:41 Dragon -The hinterlands-**

Bull sat on a rock watching the scene in front of him while catching his breath like everyone else, trying to adjust himself in his pants to find a comfortable less straining position. They had stumbled upon a dragon and yes, Bull got excited by dragons, no, not to the same extent as the inquisitor. Bull got off sexually by dragons, Isala went into some sort of dragon like state like in Haven where he just wanted to fight it and the only way to stop him would be throwing him over his shoulder, that Bull knew out of experience. 

The first roar had been heard and the elf had practically bolted towards the dragon. There had been a growl off between the dragon and the elf that had been extremely hot in Bull's opinion, thinking about how the same elf had squirmed under his hands just days before was hot enough to get him rock hard in seconds. In fact to see the elf twist and turn, with all that dragon blood everywhere was damn hot too, pretty much everything in the situation was hot, even the fire, hot in both ways.

He now watched the elf grin way too smugly where he sat on top of the dead dragon. And damn if he didn't want to just grab the guy and fuck him then and there, he should really have brought some sort of oil. If the guy had shown any sort of interest in a round two of what they had done in Shyhold he would have brought it. However the elf had shown no sign of interest after their time in his bedroom. He wasn't sure if the guy simply had got his fill or if the elf was just really good at hiding what he wanted, which Bull happened to know he was. 

To be honest, Bull had not expect it to be a relationship. He didn't do relationship, he was a Qunari. But he damn sure hoped he'd be allowed more sex with the dragon smelling elf, because fucking him was like fucking a dragon. That made things stir even worse in his pants and he gave up on finding a comfortable way to have his cock in his pants, he'd just have to do something about it when they made up camp later.

He heard Isala laugh and slide down from the dragon and happily squeezed Sera in a hug covering her with blood before going to the dragon's head and began carving out teeth. Bull felt a slight pang of panic, wondering who it was that had caught the inquisitors heart, jealousy that shouldn't be there and a slight sorrow over not being allowed to get more of the elf as someone else had caught him.

Just as soon as the emotions clawed on his chest he remembered this was Isala's usual behavior at a kill. Carving out teeth, claws feathers and colorful scales. The panic he had felt quickly turned into annoyance that he had felt it at all. He was Qunari and they didn't feel those things for others. There was no relationships in the Qun. 

Bull quickly dismissed it as it being the elf smelling of dragon. As he had dismissed all those sort of feelings towards the elf and decided it was just the scent of dragon that did it. Not the elf himself. Anyone would be interested in the elf at Par Vollen, and the thought of that quickly turned to possessiveness because he found he **really** didn't want to share.

He watched said elf for a while longer before getting up to help putting up camp as Isala dragged away Sera somewhere out of sight. They could of course have gone back to the main camp but neither of them felt willing to drag Isala away from his looting and exploring, and the dark was slowly falling over them so putting up the tents here was not a bad idea. 

Bull nearly jumped (nearly) when the elf sneaked up on him and tapped his arm with a grin on his face. Yellow  eyes eagerly looking up at him. Bull arched a brow questioning. "Bull come with me, I found something." He said eagerly and Bull wasn't sure if the guy had actually found something or just wanted an excuse to drag him away, he silently cursed how hard it was to read the elf and hoped that it was the latter of two options.

"Don't go, he found the dragonling nest he already showed me." Sera said from the fire and snorted.

Isala ginned widely and nodded eagerly but there was a hidden interest in those yellow eyes and Bull chuckled lightly. Sera said there actually was a dragonling nest but Bull wasn't entirely certain that was where he was going to be dragged off to. That glint in his eyes was something he'd only seen twice before on the elf and that was in his bedroom the first time when the elf had had his mouth stuffed with his fingers and in the inquisitors bedroom as he was pressed to the wall. Either way, Bull planned to find out which of the two it was. 

"Awh, but look at those eyes, can't say no to look at hatchling nests when he's making all dragon eyes on me." Bull said with a laugh. 

Isala quickly lead them away from the camp, agile moving over the uneven landscape and Bull followed with interest in the half dark. When they were out of sight the elf turned towards him and put his hands to his chest and began to push him backwards. Well, try to push him backwards, if Bull didn't want to move he wouldn't. However, he smirked amused and decided to humor the elf and backed until the back of his knees hit a rock and he sat down on it. 

He stretched his bad knee out where he sat and looked at the elf who slipped down in his lap and crashed their lips together as his nimble little fingers slid over his chest then down between their bodies to stroke against the bulge in his pants. Bull grunted appreciative and leaned his head back against the stonewall behind him. He solemnly hoped the elf had oil, or at least a plan on what was going to happen here.

"Taarsidath-an halsaam." The elf hissed against his lips and grinned wickedly. 

"What can I say, dragons!" Bull said and laughed lightly. "I keep forgetting that you know Qunlat. Though I admit it's damn hot that you do." He said and grinned putting his hands at the inquisitors hips pulling a deep breath. He smelled really good, like  _really_ good.

Bull had noticed that the elf smelled more when they had sex and right now he was also reeking of the heavy scent of Dragon. He quietly wondered if it happened when the elf was horny or if it was something else. He'd ask sometime but not today, right now he had more important things on his minds, like the elf clearly being interested in a round two. The elf grinned at him then slid down on his knees between his legs and worked on the buckles of his pants. 

"I admire your enthusiasm little dragon, but that ain't going to work." He said amused looking down at the elf. 

"Shuddup and let me work, I don't have any oil." The elf huffed between  his legs. 

Bull just put his hands behind his head and looked down at the elf, he wasn't one to complain about some experimenting and he'd lie if he said he didn't want the pointy tongue down on him, just like on his fingers before. The elf pulled him free from his pants then just shifted to different angles. Probably trying to work things out and how to make the impossible work.

"Giving up Ataashi?" He asked and chuckled lightly. 

Isala huffed and pulled his dreads up in a high ponytail and wrapped the leather cord around them before shifting closer resting his elbows over Bull's thighs. He looked at the large quest in front of him, knowing, _that_ wouldn't fit his mouth if he didn't want to dislocate his jaws. So instead he tried to wrap his fingers of his right hand around the base. They didn't go all the way around, there was a centimeter or two too little of his fingers to be able to wrap his hand properly around Bull.

However the Qunari grunted in approval and that spurred him on and he leaned in close and let saliva slide down his tongue before dragging the flat of it along the underside of his task he had decided he wanted in his mouth. He knew he didn't need to get the whole thing into his mouth out of experience, he just needed the right spots and some skill and he'd have Bull coming for him within twenty minutes. 

Bull moaned over him and Isala grinned blowing teasingly over the wet stripe before sliding his tongue over the tip trying. He followed Bull's grunts, growls and moans as directions as he worked. He swallowing down what he could, which to be fair wasn't very much unless he was willing to actually dislocate his jaw (which he wasn't). 

Instead he used his fingers and his tongue more eagerly, moving his hand in a steady pace, helping with the other hand. Tongue swapping between swirling, lapping, sucking, licking and prodding the right spots, his sharp teeth just grazing against the sensitive skin, teasing, not hurting.

Bull had at some point grabbed his hair while moaning loudly keeping him from pulling his head away from his cock. Not that Isala had any intentions on doing that anyway, not until he was done and he'd got to taste Bull, but he quite loved Bull's hands in is hair, demanded it even. He growled dragon like around the head of Bull's cock as he flickered his tongue.

"Ah fuck yes! Again!"

Isala grinned against his cock and began making all dragon noises he could with his mouth otherwise occupied in the way it was. Bull began cursing between his grunts and moans then tightened his hold in Isala's hair further. Isala let the left hand fall to massage his balls trying to tease Bull towards the edge. He had only a very small warning before Bull fell over and shot into the back of his throat. 

He choked around the amount of seed that shot into his mouth and whatever he couldn't swallow he let dribble out of his mouth and down his chin. He was fairly certain Bull could have given him a heads up (pun not intended) but didn't want to, Isala wouldn't have pulled back anyway until Bull was all finished.

Bull sighed when he finished and looked down at the elf and gently tugged his hair to make the elf look up. The same smug grin as when he had sat on the dead dragon was again adorning his face, white splatter glossing his lips and dribbled down on his chin mixing with the blood splatter from the fight and Bull was fairly certain he'd be able to get it up again if he pondered that for too long. 

"Get up my lap little dragon."

The elf quickly obliged and got up his lap and Bull unlaced Isala's breeches letting the elf free before stroking him languidly. Since there was no oil there would be no comfortable ass play here, so jerking him off would have to be enough for this time. By the way the elf moaned and arched up against him answered that he didn't seem to mind the idea at all really, so Bull picked up a good pace.

"You were so sexy when you growled at that dragon Ataashi. My little dragon facing down a large one, got me fucking hard and wanting right then and there." He growled against a pointed ear and licked the shell of it. "I'd fuck you rough and hard against that dragon if we had oil here."

The elf moaned and wrapped his arms around his neck rolling his hips upwards in time with the strokes. As he spoke on the moans became needy whimpers and the elf bit down on his shoulder probably to try to stop any loud noises. Which was rather sad, Bull loved those noises. 

"Then you fucking killed it and your eyes were the eyes of a dragon for a moment I could just think about getting to fuck you cause you're like a dragon. Growl for me ataashi?" He continued as he quickened the pace on the strokes slightly.

Isala growled and snarled between his moaning, eager like a puppy for treats. Bull kept telling the elf more things about how sexy he was and how he'd fuck him if they would be back at Skyhold and had oils. Is was easy to feel when the elf was getting there and with a growling cry the elf came undone in his hand then slumped against him with a happy sigh just melting into a puddle. 

"There you go. My good little dragon." He murmured and kissed where he could reach gently, drawing out a happy purring sound that came when elves were very content.

He wiped his hand clean on his pants and cleaned the elf off as good as it got before lacing back both their pants again. After a while of just sitting Isala slipped off his lap and yawned stretching out like a lazy cat before winking at him and slipped away in the dark towards the camp again. 

Bull chuckled lightly and took some time before following. 


	22. 22: Rain, electricity and massages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crestwood is a rainy assed place with undead just about everywhere.  
> There's a flashback to Isala's past (Warning for torture)   
> Isala and The Iron Bull makes up ground rules and fluffs.

**9:41 Dragon -Crestwood-**

Crestwood was an undead wet mess, literary, there was undead and there was a mess. Before they could even think about finding Hawke and his warden friend they would have to deal with the undead that was roaming the area, attacking the village. On top of the obvious misery of corpses walking was the damn rain. Isala had liked rain at Seheron, he had enjoyed drips falling down on him among the trees or smattering outside a cave. However this rain was even worse than the rain at the Storm Coast, cold, sticky and wet, somehow managing to get all the way through their clothes into their very skin.

Everyone agreed on that when they got to Crestwood village and had spoken to the mayor, the man had undoubtedly been acting odd, and that to say the least. Had it been Seheron Isala would have suspected foul play. The man didn't seem to want them to go to the dam and drain the lake to help them get their old village back. Assured them that the panels were broken beyond repair and it was no more than a waste of time to go and try to fix it, also warned them about some band of bandits that held up in the keep. 

As the mayor of the town he should already have tried to hire someone to fix these problems, and not try to discourage a group of people who actually offered free help to fix the problem. They checked in with some of the villagers who did not share the mayors sentiment when he asked about the dam or the keep, the rest of them seemed very relieved someone finally would take the matter to hand.

The bandits in the keep were many more rouges than Isala had thought, rouges were always more difficult to fight as they just vanished and popped up elsewhere. After having Shoved several of his companion aside last second before they got stabbed in their backs he finally growled angrily. "Don't move!" He ordered and pulled up a vial from his inner pocket and smashed it against the ground. 

The fog erupted around them and he set off to work, darting back and forth between his people and the bandits in the keep. Everyone were shouting and aiming blindly with their weapons except for Bull who had grabbed the closest two people and dragged them out of the way to a wall and just stood waiting. When the fog eased up again not even ten minutes later (the rain quickly washing the fog away) Isala was seen pouncing the leader's back and slice his throat clean open before jumping off as the body fell to the ground. 

They all stared at him and he pulled his hand through the dreads and fastened them in a high ponytail as if nothing had happened. "You're a fog warrior!" Dorian exclaimed "An actual fog warrior! I've heard the stories of course, nearly got caught in one of the attacks in Seheron." Dorian sounded more excited than he should and Isala smiled sheepishly. "What are you even doing here?" 

"I'm the inquisitor, people would be upset if I left." Isala said cheeky and shrugged. "Owed a Dalish clan a favor, here I am." 

"Aren't you supposed to be some kind of rebel?" Varric asked curiously "Wait, this actually makes sense."

"Can we take this back at Skyhold when we are all dry?" Isala asked with a sigh. "I'm freezing my toes and ears off and we have a lake to drain. I'd prefer the questioning for a day I'm warm and most preferably slightly drunk." He said honest. He didn't want to talk about his group unless he knew he could drink himself silly when thinking about his dead family.

Cassandra only agreed when he promised he'd tell them the whole story back at Skyhold. Dorian wondered why Bull wasn't having a fit about it and Bull just shrugged and smiled saying _'Ben-Hassrath'_ As if he'd always known even if Isala knew that wasn't the case. He didn't mind it though, he'd prefer not to let the others know why he had left the inquisition for a week after telling Bull.

When they had raised the flag announcing this to no longer be bandit territory but Inquisition ground, Dorian, Vivienne, Sera and Cole stayed behind to make sure no bandit was still lurking in the hidden to attack. But also to wait for inquisition forces to come and properly claim the keep and set out new front gates. Both Dorian and Vivienne had been less than thrilled by all the rain and water so they had rather eagerly volunteered for the task. Dorian who had even looked a little green staring out at the lake seemed very grateful to be allowed to stay behind.

When the rest of them arrived to the dam controls an easy shove from Bull and Blackwall made the wheel spin. A little taken by rust perhaps but nothing a little strength couldn't handle, surely nothing the mayor should have claimed as broken beyond repair. A few farmers and they would have easily pressed the controls for the dam on their own. And that didn't sit right with him.

Well outside again Isala went on to his usual exploration spree, found some chests containing weapons and armors, a minor rift, several demons, an assassin with a very interesting set of knives, a spirit who'm demanded him to kill a rage demon (to which he accepted) another of those elven artifacts and the mayors old house. After some digging around he found a strange note still intact in a box making it very clear the mayor had been up to something strange and possibly bad.

"Solas? If The rift has been under water in the lake... Shouldn't it have I don't know, imploded on itself by the pressure?" He asked curiously as they continued their search for the large fade rift.

Solas gave him a look and opened his mouth then just stopped and blinked. Isala saw how the gears was turning but no answer would come and he suddenly felt delighted over finding something the other elf didn't know. Blackwall, Bull and Varric broke out in laughter and Isala snickered.

"I... suppose not, I do not believe the rifts will suffer from anything in this world except for your mark." Solas said after some thought.

It wasn't very hard to find the cave that should lead them to the rift and Isala easily picked the lock before they could get inside. He wondered briefly why the cave had been locked but supposed the mayor had kept the cave locked during night so no teenagers would sneak in and get hurt. He found a lot of stormheart in the caves as they walked, a metal that would look very pretty if Harritt and Dagna could incorporate it somehow with the dragonbone and dragonhide armor they were making for him.

As they made their way down in the dark he felt his heart begin to sink and ache. People had lived down here, they had been locked in when the water came flooding the village with no means to escape. Bones from adults holding children, witnessing how they had tried to comfort their dying children in their last breaths. Scratches on the walls from desperate fingernails, clawing to get out. 

Isala knew this wasn't the work of darkspawn. No darkspawn would lock the door to the cave before deliberately flooding Crestwood by using the panels of the dam. He had a feeling he knew exactly who had slaughtered everyone in the caves, making no difference in child to adult. 

"You are hissing." Bull said calmly as a large hand came to rest on his back. 

Isala flipped around and glared at him furiously "I am angry!" He snapped. "What did you expect me to do!" Bull didn't pull back, just nodded calmly and Isala deflated, he wasn't mad at Bull and the Qunari didn't deserve his rage. "I... these were people, they had no way to flee. Who ever killed them didn't care they were civilians, children... they just... killed them." He said and sighed deeply. 

Bull looked at him and nodded. "I know. We will find the sonof a bitch who did this. Then you can have his throat for it." Bull said sincere and Isala sighed and closed his eyes. He didn't want his throat, that would be quick, he wanted who did this to suffer the rest of his life.

"Let's just... move on."

They moved on with a minimum of talking. Following the caves down and down until they reached the deep roads. Isala wondered how this place could even have been flooded if it lead down to the deep roads, shouldn't the water have just swooshed on to other parts of the deep roads with time? He didn't ask though, he wasn't really interested in how deep road flooding worked. 

However, he had never been in the deep roads before and he could nearly put his fury aside in favor for exploring the old dwarven place. picked a couple of locked doors, collected some books, looted a fancy chest and dragged out a nice sword and held it over to Cassandra and stashed a medium armor into his bag so Harritt could have a look at it and remake it to something Varric might be willing to wear. 

The rift when they found it was huge, and by the time they had managed to weaken it enough to give him time to close it they were all exhausted. Blackwall and Cassandra chugged down a health potion each and Solas healed a the bleeding claw marks across Isala's face. He had missed the fucking terror that had jumped out from the ground underneath him and clawed his face bloody before Bull cut it in half with one powerful swing.

Isala snickered when Bull sat grumbling about hating demons beside Varric. The fight had (as always) improved Isala's mood and when Solas was done with his face. Isala happily began exploring the room while the rest of them just sat regaining themselves from the fight. Isala hummed picking another chest and pulled out a fancy bow and kept it for Sera and stuffed a light armor in his bag that also would go to Harrit to remake it into something Dorian might wear later. 

He came back to them when he was all done with the room and stuffed his hands down in the demonic gooey residue from the slain demons. He shuffled around it it like a five year old in a puddle of water fishing around for any material the researchers in Skyhold would be able to do anything with. 

"Do you have to do that?" Blackwall asked and made a face where he sat leaned to a pillar.

Isala tugged up a talon and grinned at the warrior predatory. "Stuffing my hands into my enemies guts? Yep. They like to study it in Skyhold. Besides, people finds it disgusting so I feel compelled to do it." He said still grinning and grabbed some rags and scraped up some goo before stuffing it in a metal container from his bag then put it back into the bag. 

When they had caught their breaths and Isala was done with looting the residues of the fallen demons they moved on. Isala found another of the elven artifacts, a nug nest, and another mosaic piece before they found some ladders that lead them straight out to fresh air again. Outside they were met with sunshine instead of the rain that had loomed angrily over the space since they got there.

Isala nearly missed the damn rift and the arcane horror that suddenly were in the valley they had gotten out to. He really hater the arcane horrors, they survived being back stabbed and attacked until they were nearly hacked into little pieces. It took them a while to snap the rift close but when they did Isala was one arcane horror heart richer. 

Back in the village the mayor had fled and Isala found a note which made him hiss angrily again. The mayor **was**  indeed the man behind the flooding of the old village. Claimed that some people in the caves had caught the blight, as if that was reason to drown them all. If this man honestly thought he could escape the inquisition he was sadly mistaken. Isala would have Leliana send men after him when they returned to Skyhold

Finding Hawke and the warden wasn't too hard, a large bearlike man with a large staff on his back snogging a white haired lyrium tattooed elf wasn't something one simply missed. The information the warden gave them were about the calling or so it was called. Every grey warden in Thedas seemed to believe they were dying and without a doubt they would do something incredibly stupid. Stroud had refused to be part of this stupid and thus they had decided him a traitor to the order.

Teheron who had joined Hawke there, said that since he was in charge over Amaranthine he was too much into politics to be allowed to know any of those things so he had no more answers than Stroud, only difference that the wardens still saw him as commander of the grey since he and his sister had killed an archdemon in the last blight and thus were the only two wardens still alive to have actually killed an arch demon.

Stroud told them about an old outpost in the western approach that he thought would give them more answers and marked out the spot on Isala's map. Isala actually looked forwards to go to the desert. He missed the heat of the north, to be able to wander around without a shirt and let his already dark skin tan nicely by the merciless sun.

Stroud would meet with them in the western approach when the inquisition was ready for it and with that, they parted ways. 

* * *

  **9:29 Dragon -Minrathous-**

Pulchra was in the middle of scrubbing the marble floor i  the entrance hall. His torso per usual bare as he was going nowhere outside the property and that was how his master liked it. His master had gone to Magister Alexius for his research and had not needed his favorite slave to join him. So Pulchra had been left behind to scrub the floors until his master would be able to see his own reflection in them when he came back. 

His long hair was neatly braided and hung down over his left shoulder just shy of the floor as he stood on his hands and knees scrubbing, water, soap and polishing agent skillfully into the marble. He liked this kind of work, it was simple and he was given some time to himself to daydream. He hoped his master would be pleased, maybe he would even be given something. 

Tarsicius liked to give him boons when he was a good elf. Boons like a new tunic, new pants or being extra gentle with him, a new soap to his hair or maybe a treat. He hoped mostly for new breeches, these ones clung too tightly to his legs as if a size too small and sleeping in them were very uncomfortable. He recently had got a new soap smelling of lavender and his master rubbed the nice smelling soap every other night when he took his usual bath so he wasn't in need of a new one.

Usually slaves didn't bathe. They used oils to get clean but Tarsicius didn't want to hear about it since that wouldn't work for his silky jet black hair. Pulchra really didn't mind, he knew what luxury baths were and he enjoyed it every time he sat in a tub and his master rubbed soap into his hair. He hummed by the thought of the bath he knew would be  coming later tonight and rubbed the floor more eagerly.

"You really are pretty aren't you?" A voice sighed behind him.

Pulchra yelped surprised and accidentally flipped over his bucket pouring out all water on the floor, that was one way to fail his task and he felt panic wash over him just like the water on the floor. He quickly scrambled for the the bucket and flipped it up, rags, brush and equipment quickly put into the bucket. He turned to the young master of the house and bowed his head while the water pooled around him, slipping into his tight leather pants and he kept his head low. 

The brunette laughed amused before walking closer and easily grabbed to the braid and gave a rough tug forcing his head back and Pulchra tried hard to swallow down the pained sound that wanted creep up through his throat but another tug and twist then a hard yank to his pointed ear made him yelp of pain and his eyes tear up involuntary.

"Tsk, what a mess you make. Now what would be a proper punishment for you?" Epidicus purred by the  ear he had yanked.

Pulchra's eyes were blurred by the tears and he tried to breath evenly. His head was tilted back and his back was forced to arch back in a difficult and painful position to follow the hand that was holding tightly to the braid, nails digging dangerously to the tip of his ear. This was why he hated to be left behind by his master. He loved to be given time to daydream but he he feared his master's son who was too rough and often took pleasure in delivering hard punishments to the slaves of the household. 

Pulchra got away from the worst of it because Epidicus wasn't allowed to leave visible wounds or scars on his body, Tarsicius found him far too pretty for that kind of misuse. However Epidicus had figured out his own little tricks to agonize him without it showing on the outside. Pulchra began to quietly beg by the moment the man let his fingers to his naked chest. 

Of course that only made the man laugh amused then pressed his fingers to his naked chest and electricity rushed into him making him scream loudly and trash around. He didn't mean to do it, it was simply what happened when Epidicus used his electric magic on him. He still couldn't move his head much from the iron hold to his hair so his his body simply had to take that into account on it's own while it trashed around. 

"You look even more pretty screaming of pain. Shall we see if we can make your heart stop again? That was fun wasn't it?" The man purred by his ear. "You're going to be nice and not tell my father or I'll kill you the next time and you know it." 

Pulchra shivered violently as the magic stopped but he was crying where he sat on his knees on the floor, head and back still awkwardly tilted back by the firm grip on his braid. Epidicus knew that he wouldn't tell. Pulchra wouldn't ever dare to tell Tarsicius, besides he wasn't left alone that many times and this only happened when his master was out of the house and Epidicus was bored.

The last time this had happened his heart had stopped by the intensity of electricity that had jolted inside his body. Epidicus had kick started it back up again with another powerful jolt. He had been left aching and broken in a way that was hard to explain and he was terrified of it to happen again. He knew he had been dead for a little while the last time and he didn't want to die for good.

"Pl...please." He whimpered shaking, voice breaking by tears and fear. "Please..." 

Epidicus snorted and stroke his fingers teasingly over Pulchra's wildly beating heart, he could practically feel how his masters son collected enough magic and a broken sob tore from his throat, squeezing his blue eyes tightly shut.

"Mhmm, even begging for it. How very good you are."

Pulchra violently shook his head as much as he could in the rough grip of his hair then screamed loudly as electricity surged through him again. His body began cramping and twitching, trashing around helplessly over the treatment. He felt it like if he was drowning in the pain until his body simply began failing making him fade out, feeling like his minds slowly leaving his body.

He didn't hear the loud cursing or feel when his hair was let go. Didn't have a clue that he was shaking violently in the water of the floor while electricity was surging between his own body and the water. He just fell into darkness and welcomed it as a very comforting way out of what was currently happening to him, he wouldn't be the first elf to die in Tevinter by abuse and he wouldn't be the last. 

However he was pulled back from it by two hands, one to each cheek and he was fairly certain he heard shouting around him but he couldn't focus on more than the healing magic soothingly running from the hands to his cheeks and down his body. He didn't have energy enough to open his eyes. If this was death, death was strange.

He was exhausted like if he had ran all the way from the bridge into Minrathous to the black spire on the other side i n one go, and then been hit by a dragon. He was trying to remember why he was that exhausted, trying to remember why he was just lazing around instead of getting up. His master without doubt needed him to be up and doing... something... he didn't quite remember right now. 

He whined when someone opened his eye for him trying to move his head away from the bright light in the room. There was more magic and he slowly could take in sounds again, voices. His mater telling him something, his master giving him an order. He shifted his ears as he tried to strain them into hearing, another wave of magic and he could hear his master tell him to move his fingers and toes and open his eyes, both of them. 

Pulchra slowly opened his eyes and began moving his fingers and toes, gritting his teeth over the stiffness in his body. He realized the hands to his cheeks were his masters own hands and he looked around confused then went wide eyed by fear as his memories returned to him. The Bucket, he had flipped over a bucket and Epidicus had punished him for it.

"I'm sorry master!" He croaked out roughly. "I didn't mean to tip the bucket! I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

His master just hushed him then barked some orders to another direction and soon a kitchen slave came into view and tipped something back in his mouth that tasted foul, before he had time to reflect he just sank into a dreamless sleep that relaxed all of his body at once.

* * *

**9:41 Dragon -Skyhold-**

"Boss, you here?." 

Isala looked up from the floor, where he laid writing reports about the situation in Crestwood. The reason he wasn't sitting by the desk was because his ass again was sore from being assaulted very pleasantly by huge Qunari cock the night before and sitting only caused him to hiss or squirm around. It wasn't strictly painful, more a very noticeable distraction. 

When they had gotten back from Crestwood Isala had explained to his companions about fog warriors, how he was one and how his people had died in the conclave. He had gotten drunk and by the time he was trying to sleep he had realized it was impossible. The voice in his head had helpfully informed that he needed a distraction and suggested what direction to go to get it. 

That had ended in him showing up in the middle of the night in Iron Bull's bedroom. Bull had provided a perfect distraction by folding him in half while fucking him merciless into the bed while Isala clawed at his very hot arms leaving marks that probably would be showing the day after. Afterwards he had thanked Bull, grabbed his pants and fled.

Just as the last time Bull had fucked him he easily slipped into sleep the moment he hit his own bed and slept through the night. The next day however, he still very much felt how Bull had pounded into him, so this day was a _'lay on his stomach and remember to store elfroot potions in his bedroom'_ kind of day. He heard the door squeak in protest of being opened then heavy steps to the stairs and got just the slightest bit of worried. 

It really was only one person who made those kind of heavy steps and that was Bull. Isala wasn't sure what Bull felt about being left the moment they had both been done the night before and just hoped he wouldn't be too annoyed. Bull's bulk of upper body came into view, then the rest of  him. He didn't look angry though and Isala relaxed where he laid in front of the  fire.

"What are you doing?" Bull asked looking rather amused as he leaned to the reeling where he stood and watched him on the floor.

Bull being amused was a good sign and Isala relaxed further by the relaxed approach from the Qunari.  **"You claim not to be more but you care deeply what The Iron Bull thinks."** The dragon in his head noted with amusement.  _"He could easily squish me into jelly if he felt for it."_ Isala thought dismissively but knew that wasn't why.  **"I am part of you, you can't lie to yourself."** The reply was and Isala sighed deeply  _"I can try."_ **  
**

"I err.... can't actually sit. Or move really. Ugh, shut up and stop looking smug." He said and sighed dramatically.

Bull laughed as he walked over and moved the chair in front of the spot Isala was laying on. Isala watched as the Qunari sat down comfortably and then returned to write the report about Crestwood that suddenly was the most dull task he had ever got. He missed the way Bull's eye was raking over his body with interest.

"You know, you should store elfroot potions in your nightstand if you intend to come for more nightly visits to me." Bull said smugly.

"I suppose." Isala said with a sigh and leaned his head to his crossed arms, giving up on writing and just looked up at Bull. "So... how will this... uhm, work? I mean, you and me." He asked and played with his dreads adverting his gaze for a while then looked back up at Bull.

"Outside this room nothing changes, you're the boss. Inside however, I'm in charge. I will never hurt you without your permission, you will always be safe with me. If you ever are uncomfortable or need me to stop, you say Katoh, and it's over." Bull said calmly. Clearly he was used to doing this but Isala snickered.

"Bull, I blabber in Qunlat when I'm in it." Isala said amused. Bull looked a bit taken back by that and Isala laughed lightly, shaking his head. Bull couldn't sleep with many people who were from Seheron or Par Vollen. "Tassels, if I say tassel I need you to stop. I can't stand the word."

He slowly pulled himself up and sighed over the dull throbbing sensation in his ass, but it was rather pleasant, a nice little reminder about yesterday. Bull nodded agreeing and looked at him, holding his hand out helpfully. Isala quickly grabbed it and made a surprised sound as Bull tugged him into his lap then stood up from the chair. Isala held on hard around Bull's neck and hummed over Bull's hands that took his weight by his ass and carried him to the bed.

Bull flopped him down on his stomach on the bed and helped easing him out of his clothes and strip him naked. Isala opted on telling Bull to give him some time between the times but he had to admit he was interested. However, instead of Bull pinning him down and working him open with his large fingers Bull began massaging his back.

Isala sighed blissfully and just melted into the touch. **"He is good for you."** The dragon inside informed him.  _"Tell me something I don't know. It is still not serious. Just... stress relief"_ He stretched out from his fingertips to his toes and hummed happily under Bull's skilled fingers, wondering where a Qunari learned all about amazing massages.  **"You wouldn't take another to bed this willingly."** _"True."_

Isala slowly felt himself getting more and more reduced into an elven puddle of relaxation between small moans an whimpers as knots and tensions was worked out from his shoulders and downwards on his back. He began relaxing parts he never thought were meant to be relaxed, parts he was fairly certain he had never been relaxed in before. 

He had to stifle a fit of giggles when Bull stroke a ticklish stripe down his side and squirmed slightly. Bull just snorted and pinned him down with the other hand and kept working the spot firmly with his hand before moving on down to his ass.

"Ouch... Bull, be gentle on my ass, you big bru-Ouch! Bull!"

Bull had bit his ass when he complain and laughed as he continued the kneading of his ass. "No complaining. I know what I am doing Ataashi." He grumbled, mouth dangerously close to the other ass cheek. Not that it was such a horrible punishment and Isala snickered  amused squirming slightly under the skilled hands.

"You are terrible." He hummed approvingly and laughed when he was bit a second time, squirming slightly again in a very lazy, not very honest, escape try. "Do they match now?" He asked and snickered playfully. 

"You are impossible little dragon." Bull said but the laugh was there in his voice. "Be still, or I'll have to tie you down."

"I am charming, it's a difference Bull!"

The Iron Bull just grunted amused in reply but didn't argue it.


	23. 23: The western approach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The western approach happens and Isala loves the change of climate because the south is far too cold for his liking!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I kind of have a question for you people, well a couple of questions to be able to give you what you want in this fic. I'd appreciate to know if you like it the way it is or if you want:  
> longer/shorter chapters?  
> More/less flashbacks?  
> More/Less canon plot?  
> More/less smut?  
> More/less fluff?  
> More/less chargers or inner circle?  
> More/less adventuring around in Thedas for missions?  
> More/less drunken shenanigans + Sera and Isala messing with people as the pranksters they are?
> 
> Do you guys have any ideas or questions you'd want to know more of/want a chapter on or something as such. If you want to have a chapter from another characters point of view and in that case who :)
> 
> It would really help me while making more chapters if you'd just have time to leave a little comment, if you like it the way it is you can just say that too. :)

**9:41 Dragon -Skyhold-**

The Iron Bull had spent the last hour or so just quietly watching the tavern. Well, that was not entirely true, he was watching the table where Sera and Isala sat eating fruit. Again, not entirely true, he was watching Isala eat fruit, laugh and goof around with the other elf. Relaxed suited the guy really well, sitting peeling a orange while listening to Sera chat about some Red Jenny missions as if there wasn't a care in the world.

Krem dropped down on the chair beside him and Bull tore his eyes off the elves to give him a nod then turned his gaze back. It wasn't as if he was ashamed for openly watch the elf, it was a handsome guy and he wasn't the only one doing it around Skyhold, or anywhere they went really. Besides, Bull openly watched a lot of people, watching was part of his job, watching and learning about people. Maybe not watching the same guy for an hour eating fruit though, but hey, he wasn't about to turn down on a good view. 'Sides, he was the only one in the room Bull wasn't able to figure out yet. 

It had gotten easier to read the inquisitor now that he had started to learn the elf's tells. But now and then the elf would do or say something that'd throw him entirely off track and force him into re-evaluating the guy again. He could practically hear the smug grin on Krem beside him without even having to turn his head to look. He chuckled lightly, wondering what was on his lieutenants minds today. 

"Anything wrong Creme de la Krem?" He asked with playful tease. 

However, today Krem didn't let himself being thrown off guard that easily, the guy didn't even roll his eyes or sigh loudly over it. "So, chief, you got an eye for the inquisitor huh?" The warrior asked instead with a grin, entirely ignoring the pun on his name. 

"He's a mystery." Bull said and chuckled, he knew Krem meant more than right now though so he sighed and nodded. "Smells like a dragon." Bull grunted and stretched out some in the chair. "Makes these, dragon noises whenever he fight too. Growled at a high dragon as if challenging her."

"For real?" Krem asked and looked at the elves curiously. "He smell like a dragon?"

"Yeah. It's like standing next to a dragon only without the chaos."

"That explains why you're giving him that puppy look." Krem said amused. 

Bull eyed his lieutenant who still grinned smugly at him. He really hoped Krem was exaggerating with that statement. This whole deal with the elf was already too close and far too complicated for his liking. The way the guy had crawled in under his skin and how he himself didn't even mind it, instead he wanted more of it. He wanted to have the elf stay in his bed all night and not leave after sex, which was a new one.

Not that he'd bring it up. For all he knew it was just sex and the guy didn't want it to be more than just sex. Sometimes though, Isala gave him those looks and it confused him as to what the elf wanted from him. Which in itself was infuriating since it wasn't something that happened to Bull anymore, not knowing what his partners wanted. Yet here this elf was and suddenly Bull felt like a imekari once again.

So, Bull stayed on the safe side of things and waited for the elf to make his decision. If Isala wanted what they had and what they did to change he would change it. This wouldn't be serious until the elf decided that he wanted it to be serious and Bull solemnly hoped that he himself would understand if that ever happened.

"It's nothing more than sexy and we already had sex. He is not interested in anything else." He grunted and watched as the elf popped one orange slice in his mouth looking sinfully content with his cheeks bulging slightly before chewing on the fruit. Damn now he was getting hard too.

"But you are? Never seen this on you before chief." Krem said having pulled down on the tease.

"It freaks me the hell out. Would have looked up a tamassran if there was any 'round." He admitted and crossed his arms over his chest frowning slightly. 

"Oh come on. I know you Qunari people don't do the whole couple thing but you have a thing for him Chief."

Bull huffed but didn't answer. Maybe he had to stop blaming it all on the scent of dragon. He couldn't smell the elf from here and the elf still looked sexy as hell, especially since him and Sera had started a competition of who could put most grapes in their mouths at once. Bull knew exactly how much Isala could get into his mouth and that was impressively much for a small elf like himself, that thought didn't help the straining that was shaping down in his pants. 

"I don't know Krem. It's probably just the smell. S'real nice, and he growls." 

Krem just snorted and patted his arm. "Whatever you say chief." He said before leaning back on the chair and they sat in silence watching the two elves. Sera lost the game with the grapes and Isala looked smug as ever when he chewed the grapes before returning to his half eaten orange. The elf locked eyes with it and Bull could swear the grin got more smug as he slowly slid the next orange slice into his mouth in a way that should by all rights be illegal.

The very thought of looking up the redhead serving girl didn't even seem as appealing as it was supposed to, or as appealing it had been before he got his hands on the dragon smelling elf. He'd probably just have to take an ice bath later and take care of himself if he couldn't pull the elf into his bedroom.

Seeing the elf look that happy with his fruit was definitely not sending a little smile to Bull's lips and absolutely not making him feel mushy on the inside. 

* * *

**9:41 Dragon -The western approach-**

The western approach was hot, huge and sandy. Isala, he loved it. While the others in his squad groaned loudly in complaints about the wasteland, Isala darted up and down the plains of sand and rocks with a large smile on his face. Now and then he climbed up some rock formation to look out over the desert landscape trying to spot Harding and the base camp or to simply spy at some fennec or hyena before dashing after them, body filled of the thrill of the hunt.

The dragon inside him loved the change of climate just as he himself did and Isala was happy to let the predator out with him to find things easier or to hunt the wildlife. The others had long given up trying to tell him so save energy and stop darting off like he did since he didn't listen even a little at their words. When they finally found Harding and the camp the rest of them were relieved to find that it was located in the shadow of a mountain and all of them took the time to just relax.

Isala however immediately missed the sun and was eager to get back out in it as soon as possible. But being at camp did give him a chance to swap into better fitted clothes for the comfortable heat. But first he'd need to listened to Harding's report. 

She told him there was warden activity to the southwest but no one had gotten close enough to make out what they were up to. The wildlife and sandstorms was keeping them from further exploring of the immediate area and one of Harding's scouts had gotten too close to a poisonous hot spring and had given a rather delirious report about a high dragon flying in the sky. There was also Venatori somewhere in the area being up to something, even if they didn't know what yet.

Isala however didn't doubt that there could possibly be a dragon somewhere in the area. This place would be perfect dragon territory, not too many travelers to attack while the dragon slept and enough wildlife for feeding on. So, he was even more eager about this place and what they'd possibly find after her report. He sank down in the sand when he was done with the report and began unbuckling his chest plate then slipped off his tunic and put both things into his packing. 

That left him in just his reinforced leather breeches, belts and gauntlets. He pulled his hair up in a  high ponytail aware that both Bull and Dorian was openly ogling his bare chest with interest and he chuckled lightly shaking his head amused. He wasn't bothered by it, he was used to people looking at his chest and Bull had seen a lot more of him than just his chest. 

His daggers was secured on his hips instead of on his back, he didn't want the metal to get hot and burn him, or accidentally scrape his back when pulling them to use in a fight or get a tan shaped of his daggers on his back.

"Alright! I intend to go that direction first! I want to explore the dragon rumors and kick some Vint ass. Who's joining me?" He asked gladly when he was done with his undressing. He figured it was better to let his companions choose if they wanted to follow at his crazy adventure rather than picking people out. He'd avoid a lot of complaining that way.

"For dragons!" Bull called out with a laugh. 

Sera rose her hand and laughed as well crazily over the idea of dragons. Dorian who seemed rather happy about finally having found a warm and not rainy place in the south agreed as well. Cassandra informed that she wasn't going to let them fight dragon on just one warrior in case they found one and joined as well along as volunteering Blackwall who just sighed but accepted.

So off they went. Isala and his group stumbled over the Venatori excavation that contained failed time magic, rifts and demons. After that they fought several Quillbacks, Hyenas, a varghest, some phoenixes and more stray Venatori. They were met with a poisonous mist at one place of the desert that none of them could breath in and Isala marked the location on their map for someone at Skyhold to fix for later. 

For several hours they just explored, Isala moving back and forth, twisting every rock, collecting every deathroot, mineral and herb he could get his hands on as they made their way onward. The rest of them were long tired of the sand and sun and even Dorian was complaining about sunburns. Sera had changed to a red tomaoto color and so had Blackwall. Bull had begun feeling a little tense and forming a headache by the sun but were too content to see the elf so relaxed and happy that he didn't have it in himself to complain. Isala soon relented to the complains and they returned to camp. 

When they got to camp all his companions dropped down where there was shade from the mountains. Cassandra, Sera, Blackwall, Dorian and Bull quickly sloped down and Dorian began using ice magic to cool down his skin and soon was doing the same for Blackwall. Sera wouldn't let anyone's magic touch her and suffered in silence until Dorian simply made her a large chunk of ice for her.

Isala though explored the nearby area for a while longer before dropping down on his back in the sand where sun glared down at him and stretched out leisurely, like a cat who owned the place. Isala was unaware that Bull was watching him with interest as he did it, too content with the  glaring sun to his skin to even bother with anything else in the world than being comfortable.

Isala didn't share a tent with Bull when they were out at these adventures. He still shared with Sera or Varric, or both, depending on how many tents they brought with them. The dragon in his head had tried to make him sleep beside The Bull, because the Qunari gave up the feeling of safety by far more than Sera did, but Isala refused. Him and Bull wasn't serious, they were just a bit of fun and primal need. 

He had never slept beside just Tenek either. Well, they had always slept cuddled in a pile in Seheron but that had been with Orchid, Tenek and Septimus as well, it hadn't been because they had been in a relationship, it had been because they all enjoyed to sleep cuddled together. No more feelings than comfort. When it came to sharing a bed with just  _one_ other person however it suddenly turned just sex into something serious.  **"It already is serious. You smile when you think of him."** Isala sighed deeply ignored the voice in favor of sleep.

The rest of their trip Isala was just as eager for the sun as he had the first days in the desert. He dragged them back and forth for Fredericks dragon requests sent a stack of Tevinter texts back to Skyhold demanding them back, translated, as soon as possible. If they didn't get the texts back he'd probably just go hunting the dragon anyway.

As they moved around in the desert Isala found Griffon wing keep and they set off and killed the venatori that was occupying it and claimed it for the inquisition. That of course meant leaving some of his people behind until Harding had sent more people there. Together with Bull, Blackwall, Dorian and Varric he set back out again. They mapped out another place where the thick poisonous green mist made it impossible to breath and hunted down a varghest before they made their way to find Stroud and Hawke. 

When they reached the outpost Stroud, Hawke and Fenris was already waiting for them. Together they made their way over the bridge to the outpost and were met by the sight of one warden killing another warden who did not seem to be a willing participant, and with the blood of the now dead warden summoned a demon and bond it to himself. 

Isala tensed up entirely. He had been away from blood magic since that day, the day with the dragon. Both him and the predator inside remembered the ritual that had bonded them together. His gaze locked at the magister who stood on a small platform above the others. Isala wasn't even surprised. It was as if the southerners stumbled upon trouble and their best solution was to turn to Tevinter for allies. 

The magister began on some fancy speech Introduced himself as Livius Erimond of Vyrantium. Isala grew tired of his stupid way of talking and his stupid face, he was tired at all damn Magisters who came to the south, wondering why they couldn't just stay in Tevinter where they belonged. Why was it that every time he turned there was another magister waiting for him. 

"Will you ever shut up! What is the southerners problem! Oh shit something goes down hill, let's ask Tevinter for help and believe there are no ulterior motive! Let the wardens go and I will settle on killing you quickly!" He growled hatefully. 

"So very violent. I did nothing to the wardens, everything you see here, they did this on their own. The blood sacrifices to bind the demons... Fear is a very good motivator and they were very afraid."

Erimond spoke in a taunting manner and his very voice sent annoyance through Isala's head. It was the kind of voice that came from a man who was born into believing he was better than everyone else. The kind of man who believed he was untouchable and Isala felt his fingers itch to prove just how wrong he was.

"That's a lie, the grey wardens wouldn't do anything like this!" Blackwall sounded upset and took a defiant step forwards.

Isala winced. What had he done out of fear in his life? Clinging to a master as if he was life itself, sucked cock, killed, drawing on dragon blood to satisfy his master and his blood ritual, allowed his body into what it now was. He had done many things out of fear and he knew it's impact. "Fear is... it make you do things you would never do. Fear makes you step in front of a fire breathing dragon if the right voice say that is a way out." He said slowly to Blackwall. "Fear is the leash that holds free men and women. When it grows too much it is easier to give it to someone else and let them lead."

"But the grey wardens are heroes." Blackwall protested.

"Who sacrifices anything to stop the blights." He said and looked at Blackwall sympathetically. "Since they believe they are all dying the want to end the blights, all at once yes? What is their plan? Why a demon army?" Isala could relate. If every fog warrior at Seheron would know they would die they would make a final blow and make damn sure it was a hard one. They wouldn't go to the extremes as to harm civilians, but fog warriors were not like grey wardens. 

"How did you know... it does not matter however you know, you are too late anyway. Demons need no food no rest no healing, do never back down from orders. A perfect army to march through the deep roads. Or, Orlais now that they are under my masters control." Erimond said triumphant.

"Of course. And you get a position under Corypheus as someone important." Isala guessed.

"The elder one commands the blight, he com-"

"It was rhetorical." Isala snapped annoyed. "Release the wardens from the bindings before I kill you."

"No you won't." The magister informed then his hand was engulfed in corrupted red magic and Isala's own mark reacted to it. 

He fell to his knees with a growl as the arm crackled and the bones felt like shards of glass rubbed the inside of his skin. It was like at Haven but with less intensity of it and this time he was not distracted by a dragon he wanted to fight.  **"End his blabbering! Tear him into shreds, taste his blood."** The voice growled in his head, neither of them enjoyed when the mark was used by anyone but himself, well at occasion Solas was allowed to study it.

"The elder one showed me how to deal with you in the event you were foolish enough to interfere again. That mark you bear? The anchor that let's you pass safely through the veil? You stole that from my master. He's been forced to seek other means to access the fade. When I bring your head, his gratitude will be-" Erimond was cut off with a loud groan as he flew back.

Isala had fought his way back up on his feet and with a ferocious snarl he made his hand snap the connection short between the magisters corrupted magic and his mark. Through gritted teeth he growled as the pain slowly subdued and he began advancing at the magister ready to shred the human to little pieces. 

"If you are going to kill someone save them your infuriating blathering!" He hissed in annoyance.

"Wardens, kill them!" Erimond shouted in panic while scrambling away.

Isala had to jump out of the way to avoid getting slashed and burned by the rage demon. Before anyone had time to go after Erimond they were all pulled into the fight. Isala's left hand was still hurting and his fighting style unfortunately was effected by that, even if he managed in the fight when he put his focus on the right hand. However the rage demon managed to get in one hit over his left hip and stomach. Not that it stopped him from fighting until all demons and corrupted wardens were all dead though.

When the fight was done the magister was gone and Isala was leaning heavily against Dorian as the mage was patching him back together with a strange spell. Dorian had told him he wasn't a healer and it would scar but Isala had just grinned and nudged him on to do it. Hawke had offered to heal him without the scars but Isala liked the claw mark, it would accent his hip really nicely.

Isala had in the end just given his sweetest puppy eyes he could manage and the mage just rolled his eyes and got on with it. Dorian using necromancy meant the spell didn't at all feel like a healing spell. Healing spells were warm, one could feel the nerves, muscles and skin knit back together with care. Necromancy felt cold and quite uncomfortable but the bleeding did stop. It left three long scars over the left side of his stomach near his navel and down his hip. He grinned and then moved over to Stroud, Hawke and Fenris to get to know what they planned. 

The three was going to check up an old warden fortress called Adamant to try to find the rest of the wardens and find out about the situation there, if they were too late to warn them off about Erimond and these blood sacrifices or not. When they were done they would come to Skyhold to let Isala know about the situation and to make up plans of what to do next.

Before they parted Hawke pulled him aside slightly with a little smile. "Say hello to Anders and Teheron from me? I couldn't find a time to do it in Skyhold." He said cheeky. 

"How did you know?" Isala asked amused. 

"Teheron don't really go far without Anders in tow. They love each other very much and I ask you not to turn Anders in, he is after all a dear friend and his intentions were good... even if he could have gone about it another way." 

"I have no intentions to do such a thing. They have a spot in Skyhold for as long as they wishes it, and can hide from Cassandra." 

Hawke laughed lightly and patted his shoulder before they parted. Isala smiled as he saw Hawke wrap his arm around Fenris and kiss on his white hair. Fenris deserved someone who loved and adored him the way Hawke did and Isala was happy for them.  **"You deserve it as well."**  Isala ignored the voice again. He didn't think he deserved it.

He wasn't ready.


	24. 24: Maaras-Lok

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drinking at the tavern can be both relaxing and VERY public.

**9:21 Dragon -Minrathous-**

The little elven boy had jet black hair, just like his father before him. His face was cute, but with time that baby fat would grow away and the boy would become beautiful, just like his father. He was yet just five years of age so he still had some years before growing into it. He had her blue eyes and the same shape as her on the ears, slightly more pointed than on his father. 

Beside the other boys (there was two more boys and two girls among the slaves right now) her son looked delicate. His body was slender and his hands and fingers were slim. It was as if his body hadn't yet decided if he was a boy or not, other the obvious tell between his legs. The whole thing made him very pretty, which was lucky, had her son not been so pretty their master would have killed him long ago. 

Her son looked delicate and gracious but he was the most clumsy child at the entire estate. Walking from one end of the house to the other the boy had tripped at least three times or tipped something over. A slave that was that clumsy really wasn't a slave that anyone would ever want  _unless_ the slave had other qualities, like beauty or skill with food. She knew her son would end up for breeding, she hoped that was all he would end up for. 

She sighed and continued her work on the laundry. If she could just teach him not to be so clumsy before their master tired of him he could be a favored slave, maybe one day he could even hope to be a servant, maybe liberati. She saw him fall over flat to his stomach and the black silky hair pooled over his face on the ground as he had his face in the dirt and she felt her hope ebb out just a little more by it. 

She wished she would be allow to cut the hair, often the boy tripped because the long hair got into his face and he couldn't see, but their master wouldn't hear of it. He had ordered her not cut or braid it and she would never dare to go against his orders, so the boy had to suffer his long hair that got into his face day in and day out.

She watched her boy eagerly crawl back up and to his feet, giggling as if nothing had happened and continued his run to get to her. He clutched to her skirt and nudge her for her attention, still smiling widely. How a slave could ever smile so much she would never understand but her little boy did. He always seemed to smile when he could. 

"Mother! I fell. My knee hurt!" He said just as gladly as his smile was.

She sighed deeply and stroke his black soft hair. She sometimes wondered if he even understood he was a slave at all, wondered if she had done a mistake four years earlier... if he would have been better off... she quickly shook that thought away and sat on one knee to the ground. She gently pulled up the fabric over his knee to find it scraped and bleeding. It wasn't anything unusual on him but her mother's heart always felt worry over seeing blood on her son.

"You must be more careful my little warrior." She said with a calm smile.

She dipped her fingers in some of the dirty laundry water and carefully stroke away the blood making the happy boy scrunch up his little nose. She just laughed lightly and kissed his cheek as she cleaned the scrape up. Maybe if he realized bleeding would get him hurt maybe he'd stop doing it.

"I am careful mother." He said sheepishly. 

"Do you remember?"

"Yes mother."

"Tell me."

"9:13, the year of the dragon."

"Never forget that my proud little warrior, that is your year. Know I will always love you." They repeated this everyday but she didn't care, she'd repeat it forever if she was allowed.

Her son smiled widely at her in reply then huffed as she rubbed at the blood that kept running down over his knee. Not many slaves knew their age, it didn't matter to them. But she knew his age and she never wanted him to forget, never wanted him to think his life was worthless. Even if that was the truth, one day, maybe one day, her boy would be liberati, it was all she could hope, all she had left. 

"Bleeding again I see. Well... We better have a look at that. To my office, now."

She froze up in fear and her son adverted his eyes and bowed his head. She wanted to apologize, it was her fault, not his... but she knew things would be worse for her little boy if she did that. So instead she stroke his cheek gently and gave him a comforting brave smile and a little nudge. After all, her son had been at her masters office before, always came back with bruises but he'd heal from those. 

She watched her little boy trail after their master loyally. One leg with the fabric of his pants still rolled up over his knee. She couldn't have ever imagined that would be the last time she would see her firstborn son, if she had, she would have cried. Now her tears did not come until later that night as news came to her that her son had been sold. 

* * *

**9:41 Dragon -Skyhold-**

They had taken down another high dragon. The abyssal high dragon Frederick had been studying in the western approach to be more precise. They had been walking past the place where they had disarmed all traps earlier and the dragon had simply attacked them. For the trouble Isala had an entire new collection of claws, teeth and scales that was now in his room in one of his drawers. He had also cut the membrane of the wings and brought it to Harritt and asked him to make new pants with the material. 

The day after their return to Skyhold he walked into the tavern where he easily spotted Bull by the bar. It wasn't as if Bull wasn't the first thing everyone saw though so no surprise there. But Isala grinned slightly and quickly walked over, if there was someone who'd appreciate his new dragon leggings it was Bull. And Sera, but Bull was the one he could see right now. As he came closer he saw the bottle and curiously wondered what the man was drinking and intended to find out. 

"Inquisitor!" Bull called out with a laugh, eyeing the leggings approvingly. 

"The Iron Bull!" He replied matching Bull's eagerness teasingly. 

Bull just laughed loudly at that and patted the chair beside him. "Come! Have a drink!" Isala probably shouldn't. Bull already seemed tipsy and to get Bull tipsy the Qunari needed to drink a lot or alternatively, very strong things, to get drunk and Isala was an embarrassing lightweight only matched by Cullen. Alas Isala was a sucker for drinking and the buzz of being drunk, so he popped onto the chair that Bull had shown for him to sit. "For killing a high dragon dragon like warriors of legend!"

Bull poured them both a drink and Isala grabbed the tankard and sniffed it curiously then scrunched his nose. "What the hell is this?" He asked and snorted amused, it smelled as if it was poison or possibly nothing but alcohol. "I will get drunk and really fast won't I? If I loose my pant's I'll be pissed, I just got'em." He said with another laugh. However if he lost them if would be in his own or Bull's bedroom and he'd find them easily.

"Maraas-Lok." Bull declared grinning. "I will look after your pants, don't worry, couldn't have those pant's disappear on you."

Isala looked at him suspiciously then the cup.  **"It is not saar-quamek."** Isala hummed approvingly before he took a deep gulp of the drink and swallowed. Only to cough violently and grasp to his throat. He wondered what the hell that even was because it burned down his throat like fire. Bull laughed loudly at the reaction. **"More."**  the dragon inside demanded at once. Something burning down his throat like fire was something that would interest a dragon who had not been able to breath fire for a decade.

"I know right! Put some chest on your chest." Bull said, obviously having had a glass already. "That little gurgle just before it spat fire? And that roar! What I wouldn't give to roar like that. The way the ground shook when it landed. The smell of fires burning... Taarsidath-an halsam." Bull said dreamy. 

"Ugh! Bull! Stop saying that." Isala huffed then leaned in and grinned predatory. 

Bull just laughed in return and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and poured up more to drink in their tankards. His predatory side was demanding him to grab the tankard again. Isala however resisted drinking for the moment and looked at Bull who looked like he had something on his mind he wanted to say. 

"You know Qunari hold dragons sacred? Well, as much as we hold anything sacred." Bull grinned before he too leaned in, speakings slow and deep. "Taarsidath-an halsam."

Isala groaned and Shoved Bull away from him and quickly downed the second tankard and was caught in a fit of coughs. Not as bad as the first one but this time the dragon in him was stirring down in his throat as if to take the heated fiery drink and turn it into real fire. It only managed to come out as a hiss of course but the predator washed both their minds in a feeling of delight. 

"Yeah, the second cup's easier. Most of the nerves in your throat are dead after the first one. Ataashi... mhmm, you get that look about you when you fight'em. Or when I fold you in half and make you undone. Ataaaasheeee, you smell of them too, it's hot."

"Mhmm, s'a dragon entwined with my soul." He said and snickered. He was hazy by the insane drink and the dragon side was too occupied to revel in how the drink made his throat feel to be on guard against the stupidity Isala let out when he was drunk. "Why are they sacred? Because they smell good?"

"Well, you know how we have horns? Well yes, you do, you know that spot..." Bull grunted and shifted slightly and adjusted himself. "We kind of look more... dragony.... than most people. Maybe it's that."

Isala snickered and reached his hand up, it was a brilliant idea to touch that spot, he had forgotten all about it. Bull quickly caught his hand though and stopped him by putting a sloppy kiss to the palm of his hand and Isala giggled over the gesture and only struggled a short while before giving up reaching but kept his hand in Bull's free hand. 

"A few of the Ben-Hassrath have this crazy old theory. See. The tamassrans control who we mate with. They breed us for jobs like you breed dogs or horses. What if they mixed in some dragon a long time ago? Maybe... drinking the blood, maybe magic. I don't know. But something in that dragon we killed... spoke to me."

"Sorry we killed it." He hummed and patted Bull's arm with his free hand.

A very fine arm he might add, a very, very fine arm actually. Isala had been weak for arms and arm muscles for as long as he could remember. The patting turned into eager groping and stroking instead.  **"Lick him, then ask for more to drink."** Isala snickered quietly to himself contemplating it. 

"Damn good fight. Dragons are the embodiment of raw power. But it's all uncontrolled, savage... so, they need to be destroyed. Taming the wild. Order out of chaos. Have another drink." Isala happily drank the next drink Bull gave him, another cough and a hiss as the dragon tried to ignite another fire by it. Bull laughed loudly over his coughing and spluttering. "Nice! To dragons!" Bull called out and drank from his own glass. To Isala's content, Bull broke out in coughs as well when the drink hit his throat.

"To the Iron Bull!" Isala exclaimed and tipped over when he did too much of a movement and his face got close to Bull's arm. He grinned and quickly licked a long stripe over the inviting arm. 

"And his ass-kicking inquisitor!" Bull bellowed. 

Isala laughed and maneuvered himself up from his chair, up into Bull's lap to straddle him. Bull quickly helped him settle on his lap and wrapped one arm around his waist as the other stroke over his chest with his large hand. Isala hummed in content and arched his back slightly to press towards his hand.

Usually he really wouldn't have been this public with something like this. Not with Bull, not without having figured what exactly was going on between them. But he was drunk, the predator was thrilling over the drinks and to be honest, sitting in Bull's lap was nice, all he wanted was for Bull to touch him and for himself to loose his pants in his bedroom with Bull's help. 

"Hey, Kadan, listen. I always want to say this, and I never can with you being all over the place all the time. You've got a fantastic chest."

Isala snickered and dropped his head to Bull's shoulder and playfully bit him. "Naww." He hummed then giggled loudly against Bull's harness. When the giggles finally stopped he began placing sloppy kisses to Bull's shoulder before it hit him what the Qunari had even said, not the the last part about his chest that he had caught at once but the other thing.

Bull had called him Kadan. He knew Qunlat and that word was not outside his vocabulary. He pulled back and stared at Bull then opened his mouth to protest only to snap it back shut and blinked a couple o times dumbly. He could have just misheard... if he hadn't... it sounded rather nice in his ears and he didn't actually mind the word. 

"Get me to my room? Your drink turned my legs to jelly." He hummed and licked Bull's neck and snickered thinking about legs and jelly. "Kitchens too, I want jelly."

"Can do." Bull said and laughed standing up.

Before he knew what happened he was hauled up over Bull's shoulder making him laugh and squirm, which in turn made Bull slap his ass. That of course sent him moaning softly before the Qunari simply carried him away from the tavern. Isala oblivious to all looks that was sent their way while he was laughing and tried to get a purchase for his hands anywhere on Bull's back. 

At his chair per usual Krem just smiled, he'd be damned if those two idiots weren't down deep in for each other and the chief damn sure deserved someone that made him smile that much.


	25. 25: Honey and silk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have absolutely no excuse. You can skip to the very bottom if you don't want to know what these two idiot's do in the bedroom when they're drunk.
> 
> The thing in the bottom is a Qunari/Dragon flashback.

**9:41 Dragon -Skyhold-**

Back in his bedroom Isala hummed happily as Bull tightened the ropes to his wrists. He was fastened with both arms and both legs to different bed poles in a silky comfortable material and his eyes were covered with the same kind of fabric, making his other, already sensitive senses more sensitive. Isala however was't frightened or uncomfortable by this, instead he was grinning while squirming some, testing the restrains and hummed approving as they didn't give in.

He liked restraints if he knew that whoever restrained him would untie him if he asked for it. As long as he knew Bull wouldn't harm him or abuse him in any way he wouldn't feel comfortable with, the restrains was an exciting addition. His new leather leggings were in a heap on the floor and Isala felt his own cock hard against his stomach. Not that he could see any of these things, he could just feel them and the knowledge that even if he opened his eyes under the cloth he still wouldn't see made his cock twitch in anticipation.

"Not too hard ataashi?"

Bull's voice rasped against his sensitive ear making him shiver in pleasure and ears twitch in interest. He quickly shook his head and hummed arching his back up from the bed to get Bull's interest in his body. It was his own little game, trying to get Bull to loose his patience and just ram into him and take him deep and hard.

Maybe it was because he knew that Bull didn't loose control, maybe because he knew Bull would always make sure he wasn't hurt before, during and after. With Bull he was always safe. So, yet so far he was mostly unsuccessful. Now and then he could make Bull loose it for a moment or so before the Qunari collected himself again. That ending with a slap to his ass or a bite and he **really** liked those things too. 

Bull chuckled and his weight left the bed making Isala whine his protest even if he knew that Bull wasn't going further than to the desk to fetch the things they had brought from the kitchen. The kitchen staff had stared at them wildly when Bull came in with Isala still thrown over his shoulder as if Isala was some fair maiden stolen away from the brutish ox-man. Isala still wasn't sure how Bull was sober enough to walk in a straight while himself had problem speaking more than a few slurred words at a time. But as of right now, he didn't care. 

The bed tipped again and Isala strained his ears trying to hear what was happening, but Bull was impossibly silent for a man of his size. Isala growled when nothing happened. By now he knew that growls and dragon sounds always was a safe card if he wanted Bull to get on with things.  

Bull chuckled lightly before hot lips were pressed against his own lips and he happily kissed back as much as he was allowed by the restraints to his body. Something cold and sticky dropped down on his chest and made him yelped surprised and Bull eagerly swallowed down the sound. He really should have expected it though since that had been what they had been fetching from the kitchen and he had just been thinking of it, but the kiss had made him forget all about that adventure or anything in existence other than the press of Bull's lips.

Bull chuckled and moved his kissing down over his neck while the sweet scent of honey spread in the room. Isala squirmed slightly over the chill that was dribbling slowly over his chest pooling between his pectorals and made it's slow happy way towards his stomach. They should have picked something that wasn't as cold, then this wouldn't have been such a torture. 

Before it could reach his cock though hot tongue was pressed to the skin of his abdomen as Bull shifted on the bed straddling over Isala's spread legs. Bull was stopping the honey from it's goal with a long stroke of his tongue upwards towards his chest again, leaving a sticky trail behind. Isala groaned loudly and the tongue began to lead the honey around to cover his chest, pulling moans and whimpers out of him over the feeling. 

He gasped loudly when teeth closed around his left nipple. Bull swirled his tongue over the piercing and the skin there, tugging teasingly in the metal, not enough to hurt but not enough to be what Isala wanted either. 

"Ah! Bull..." But more than that didn't come until he took a deep breath and focused on what he was about to say. "I want..." He started though he didn't have a clue of what he wanted to say. He wasn't sure if he wanted more or less. Probably more, more on all the places, he wanted to feel Bull all over his body. He moaned again as if to help himself decide how to say it, gave up and just let himself over to Bull's expert care, tugging slightly in the silk around his wrists with another moan. 

"Shhh, I know kadan, lemme take care of you." Bull said against his skin. "That's my good boy."

The tongue continued the exploration of his chest and Isala was a wriggling mess of begs and whimpers by the time Bull had reached his navel. His covered eyes that was heightening his already high senses gave him a hard time coping with the raspy tongue that dipped into his navel. The honey was soon licked away from his chest leaving nothing but the sheet of Bull's saliva on him. 

He growled dragonlike when another cold pool of sticky goodness dropped down over his lower abdomen, dribbling down over his cock. It was **really**  cold against his private area. Bull's breath made it even cooler and he hissed squirming again trying to do something about it but of course couldn't. 

"Bull! That's cold!" He whined unhappy. 

Of course that only wrung a laugh out of the man who had his head just by his cock and Isala huffed pouting but then laughed as Bull bit his hip playfully for whining while Bull was trying to show him a good time. Which he was, Bull taking his sweet time was always nice in the end, but right now it was awful. 

"Stop your pouting kadan." Bull purred to his hip. "Give me your sweet noises."

Isla was about to refuse on pure stubbornness but gasped out loud when Bull nuzzled his face to his crotch, cheek to his balls and a horn rested over his thigh. He let out a low predatory growl that was rewarded by a long slow stroke of tongue to the underside of his shaft, which on cue pulled out a long moan from his lips and he tossed his head back into the pillows. 

He wish he could see what Bull was doing because he was certain Bull would look positively sinful between his legs. But not being able to see gave the element of surprise to what they were doing and that was also nice.

"Those are the sounds. Again!" Bull demanded and pinched his thigh.

Isala made a string of sounds and noises between moaning, growling and whining. Not that Bull would have needed to tell him to make the sounds, the moment Bull used his tongue to swab around the honey around his privates the noises came on their own. Precum already dribbling to mingle with the honey and Isala arched his back off the bed as much as he could while Bull's tongue rasped the underside of his shaft again. 

Isala felt fingers wrap firmly around the base then Bull began the onslaught of driving his tongue to tease his foreskin and prod several spots that made him see stars, nip on sensitive skin while stroking his fingers infuriatingly slow up and down in steady strokes. 

Isala was fairly certain he would explode when Bull engulfed the head of his throbbing erection in his mouth and slowly crept down around the shaft. But Bull's fingers stopped and squeezed around the base to stop him and Isala cried out in frustration while trying to tug himself free from the silk ropes around his wrists and move his hips up to force Bull to move his hand. Though Bull easily held him on place before he was certain Isala wouldn't pop. 

Then Bull continued the treatment for a long while, stopping him each time he got close to that blissful edge. Usually Isala took more than just some tongue and fingers around his dick to make him want to pop, but he was drunk and already high on Bull licking all over his body. The dragon in his head was still in euphoria over the fiery drink Bull had got him to drink which contributed to it all. 

"Bull.... please!" He managed to sob out as Bull brought him back to the edge for the... well he wasn't even sure how many times by now. He had lost count.

This time though the Qunari relented and Isala screamed as he came into Bull's mouth, the heat inside the pit of his stomach storming before letting it all go and his vision (if he would have had any under the fabric covering his eyes) turned white and for a moment he was fairly sure he had left his own body for a moment or two, in the good way of course. 

When he came back to it he could see the roof over his bed again and he blinked in disorientation before realizing the blindfold had been untied, arms and legs had been freed and that his legs was swung over Bull's lap as the large naked warrior was neatly tying his ankles back together. Isala giggled lightly over how delicate the brutal looking man on his bed worked on his legs. Bull grinned at him and tugged his legs up. 

Isala squeaked in surprise as his legs were tossed up over Bull's horns, knees folding by the horns. While he was occupied to find a comfortable position for his now upside down body something cold again dripped down at him, this time over his balls and slipping down his ass. The sudden change in temperature made him yelp loudly.

"Is that honey slipping down my ass?" He slurred with a laugh.

"Don't worry, I'll clean you up Ataashi." Bull purred.

And that sinful purr made his cock twitch lazily trying to get back to interested and Isala wasn't sure how it was even possible to get his cock interested again this soon after his last orgasm but hey, a lot of things about him was supposed to be impossible. Besides, he wasn't one to surrender to a challenge. 

"There we go." Bull said as he finished the tie to his ankles then pulled Isala's legs up higher, pulling Isala more upside down. 

Isala felt his body weight change from his back to his shoulders and he put a little more strength behind his legs that rested hooked over Bull's horns and shifted his arms back to take weight off his neck. When he found a good position he hummed content to show the position worked for him. The sound made Bull's tongue dart out, teasing the crack of his ass while large hands held to each ass cheek to get to his entrance.

He moaned loudly as the tip of Bull's tongue began circling his hole, the move made a jolt of pleasure drove straight to his cock, twitching it back to slight interest again. Bull would probably be the death of him and he was absolutely okay with that as long as Bull continued what he was doing. 

The honey was quick and easy licked around his ass and his balls. The nice thing about being an elf was that there was no hair that would get sticky by honey on him unless it got all the way up (or rather down) into his hair. Bull's tongue dipped into him and stretched out his tight entrance and Isals's moaning turned into desperate groans and growls.

Bull made a point by as slowly as he possibly could, pushed his tongue in, then pulled out and delved back in in sudden speed, twisting and prodding before teasingly slow out again and kept playing with the pace for a while before finding one he seemed to like. 

Isala's cock was soon more than just politely interested in what was happening to him, making all kinds of noises as Bull was hitting his prostate with every thrust of tongue. When he eventually began blabbering Qunlat Bull began growling to his ass before pulling out and shifted them around on the bed so Isala's back hit the mattress and pillows.

He whined by the loss of heat inside him but Bull's fingers quickly replaced it  with steady strokes and tossed his legs up over his shoulder, nearly folding him in half when rough kisses was delivered to his mouth and he groaned over the taste of himself on Bull's tongue down his mouth. 

His drunken minds missed when fingers pulled out but they sure as hell didn't miss the massive of Bull's length that slip into him feeling as if the other man was splitting him in two but in a very, very good way and he made a desperate sound reaching out to Bull's chest to stop him, he just needed a moment or two to adjust before. Bull held still while they exchanged hot and sweet kisses before Isala nodded and let his arms fall limply to the bed and Bull began moving in him.

"Yes! Ah! Fuck, Bull more!" He cried out when the pace had been picked back up. He clawed at Bull's arms that was on either side of his head, digging in his nails into the grey skin while crying out, "Yes! Yes! Yes!" over and over again. His words came between growling and moaning in his usual dragonlike way. 

"You're so tight!" Bull growled low and dark, even Isala's drunk mind picking up the need in it.

As Bull set a deep merciless pace Isala began chanting Bull's name as every other word seemed to have simply left his minds by the Qunari snapping his hips into him over and over and over. Not until Bull began growling and moaning back did Isala begin to feel the need to release grow on him again and he began gasping and panting knowing he could impossibly hold back in his state. 

"Bull!" He screamed begging "Bull! Please, please!" 

"Come for me Ataashi, let me feel that tight heat of yours." Bull growled and devoured his lips in a deep kiss.

Isala kissed back for as good as he could for the guttural growling noise that escaped him when he came again between their bodies, moments later being filled up to the brim by Bull before they both just collapsed. Isala would possibly have protested over Bull's massive weight over himself if it wasn't for the bliss he felt in the aftermath of his second orgasm. 

He whimpered slightly as Bull finally moved and just sprawled out for Bull's hands as the other man began cleaning them both up while mumbling soft praises and mapping out lazy kisses over his slowly cooling skin, still covered in Bull's drying saliva and a sheet of sweat. He didn't even care, he was too tired and too spent to have those concerns. 

When Bull was done with the makeshift cleaning, the Qunari reached for his pants but Isala whined and grabbed for his arm and tugged. He desperately needed Bull to stay, he didn't want to be alone anymore. Not now, not tonight. He wanted Bull to say kadan again, he had heard it several times during the night and he liked it, it felt right. But if bull left, it'd make that word seem... wrong in his head somehow, he just knew it'd be wrong.

Bull however looked hesitant down at him. "You are drunk." The Qunari said calmly and reached the hand that missed part of two fingers through his dreads and Isala tugged again a bit harder than the previous tug.

"M'not." He slurred then huffed realizing that was a terrible lie. "Please?" He asked instead, trying on his best puppy eyes.

Bull softened up then moved back on the bed and shifted around the pillows slightly. Isala simply assumed it was for his horns and when Bull stilled and Isala quickly shifted closer and crawled up on the larger man and just dropped his head heavily to Bull's chest. The steady rhythm of Bull's heart had him slip into a deep comfortable sleep before even feeling Bull's hand in his hair again and the other on his back. Too content by the situation he was in.

* * *

**9:32 Dragon -Par Vollen-**

"Shok ebasit hissra. Meraad astaarit, meraad itwasit, aban aqun. Maraas shokra. Anaan esaam Qun" 

Isala couldn't hear them. Not really, not anymore. The Quamek had made him loose everything, he wouldn't know who he was, what he was or where he was. If it wasn't for what was inside him now. In the beginning he had been the one breaking, the one screaming and crying. When the dragon inside his body had realized the elf was breaking it took over.

The dragon had been hurtled into this elf, it had not been his wish but it had happened nonetheless. The dragon refused to live in slavery, he was a fine beast trapped in a fragile body and from day one he had tried to harden his host into understanding they were not slaves. It hadn't been hard, he had just needed to scrape the surface and the elf had begin to understand how wrong it was himself.

Down in these dungeons he protected the elf. The horned giants would not have their body for whatever it was they wished to have it for. The Quamec didn't affect dragons. No one can affect the mind of a dragon of his age, and he would keep his elf safe through this no matter the costs. If he had to keep the elf locked in his own head, then that be it.

The Viddasala grabbed his elf's jaws and tilted his head up but it wasn't the elf looking up, it was the dragon. He grinned showing off their pointy teeth. 

"Will you submit to the Qun?"

"You cannot tame the wilds no matter how hard you try.  The mountain will never bow for you and the wind will never cease it's howling. The fire will not stop burning and the sea will not stop you from drowning." 

The Viddasala glared then grabbed the black strands and pressed his head against the saar-quamec once again, making him scream and howl by the pain and the elf screamed as well, pain shooting everywhere but never would pain make him break. Dragons rather died than break under the will of others. When his elf's head was tugged back the dragon laughed. 


	26. 26: Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bull and Isala has a chat. Fluffy fluff is fluffy. Do enjoy!

**9:41 Dragon -Skyhold-**

Isala flew up from the bed with a scream, pressing both his hands hard to his forehead. It hurt, of fuck it hurt so much he wasn't sure what to do of himself other than scream his pain out loud. He wasn't sure where he was, who he was or even what the hell he was. Strong arms wrapped around his middle and he desperately fought and squirmed to struggle away. Those arms would hurt him, it was all he knew, until a soothing voice came by his ear. 

"I've got you kadan, you're safe." Bull murmured by his ear. "No one's going to hurt you."

Isala stopped struggling all at once, the scream died down in his throat but he kept his hands to his forehead while shaking violently. Everything was sensitive and throbbed painfully. Bull's voice helped pushing it away as the Qunari kept talking to him and he slowly began breath calmer again, the phantom pain slowly subduing but never vanishing. The predator in his body worked hard and Isala's mind began locking down again. He slumped against Bull's chest closing his eyes again and dropped his hands from his forehead. 

"He felt safe... He is so loud, I just wanted to help with his hurt... it is all tangled and not all is... his." 

Bull looked up at Cole with a frown. "Not now kid, he's not ready for that yet." Cole looked at the two, confused, before he nodded making the floppy hat bob before he vanished into thin air. Bull sighed deeply holding the elf close to him, shifting him carefully up in his lap to get a better hold of him. The elf just let him manhandle him around as he wanted, limp in his arms.

"Hey, it's okay. Whatever happened, you are safe now." He said quietly.

He had seen the elf clutch for his forehead and to himself wondered how he was still himself he knew what the clutch had meant, knew why he had been screaming. Not many could withstand Quamek, certainly not former slaves who had lived their lives learning to submit. It wasn't common knowledge that Quamek was the equivalent to branding mages tranquil here in the south, only they didn't have to be mages for Quamek to work.

Bull was pissed at them, the ones who had hurt this little dragon elf. He wanted to kill everyone who had ever done harm to his elf, but to be honest he was rather sure the elf had beaten him to it.  

He stroke one hand through the black dreadlocks, followed the black thick line tattooed across the elf's face and back into the hair. The Iron Bull kept mumbling soothing words, feeling the elf relax, not just be limp but relax and felt how Isala's head thumped against his chest. He could also feel how the little guys breath became slow and even as he fell back asleep. 

Not that Bull would be able to do the same. His minds were too wind up to find any comfort of sleep. He leaned back against the headboard of the bed and pulled the covers up over them both, making sure they were properly tucked in where he held the elf close while stroking his hair. Bull was trying really hard not to think too about what the elf must have gone through, trying hard not to think about the million little questions that had popped up that he wanted to ask the guy, it was clear Isala wasn't ready to talk about it yet. 

Instead he focused on the night before, it had been good, well, it always tended to turn good when he got into bed with the elf, or anywhere with the elf. Maybe he could get the guy on an adventure through Skyhold starting with the war room. But that was not what Bull had most focus on after the night. He repeatedly had said Kadan, more so, he had meant it every time he had said it. Hell he had said it when the elf began screaming too.

He wondered if the elf would even remember he'd said it. Isala had clearly been drunk out of his minds. He knew that Isala would have understood the word's meaning, and as always with the hard read inquisitor, Bull wasn't sure how he would react to that. Though he was there wasn't he? In Isala's bed because the drunk elf had begged him to stay the night, given the most adorable look too. 

Was that also something he'd regret tomorrow? Was Cole often digging around in Isala's head? Did he always ave nightmares? And there Bull was, back to think about the nightmare and the scream of pain and terror from the now sleeping elf and he grunted annoyed closing his eyes trying to disband the thoughts that kept attacking his minds.

However, the same looping thought pattern kept repeating in his head for the rest of the slowly creeping morning. The elf didn't start to stir in his arms until the sun was properly up over the horizon splaying a lazy light into the room and Bull sat waiting calmly. Well, his outside was calm, the inside was a different story, still trying not to overthink too much about the elf. 

Isala groaned over the sun unhappily and tugged the covers to get them up over his head. He didn't really get hangovers, his speedy healing took that away a lot quicker than it should naturally. It still left him tired, hungry and impatient. 

For a moment he just kept his eyes closed and tried to remember how he ended up here from the tavern when he realized he was half sitting, half laying on a massive body under him. He opened his eyes and stared at Bull's chest under the covers then slowly peeked up at the Qunari who looked down at him, face half covered by the covers. 

Isala blinked then tiredly dropped his face back to his chest and closed his eyes. That certainly explained his ass, and why he felt slightly sticky. Isala was rather sure he somehow remembered honey.  **"You had a nightmare. The spirit boy tugged and you remembered. The Iron Bull took care of you until I could lock it back down, then you fell asleep. He never left you even for a moment."** The predator helpfully provided.

Isala opened his eyes again and stared at the grey chest in his view and reached up drawing his finger in nonsense patterns over the skin. Maybe it wasn't that bad to wake up beside someone else. That was the second time Bull talked him down from one of those attacks and still, the Qunari didn't leave, still The Bull didn't scoff at him for being broken... Bull had stayed all night, holding him, let him sleep when he didn't have to do that and Isala was grateful. 

He sighed and looked up at Bull again and quickly let his gaze fall away to look at a spot on his windows. "I... don't remember the nightmare. Or what was in it." He said and huffed slightly. No doubt Bull would be wanting to know, but Isala really didn't remember much of it.

"Cole tried to help you. I think something went wrong. Again. Maybe we should ban him from your head." Bull suggested without being sarcastic as one large hand reached up and stroke in his dreadlocks. Isala liked that, it was comforting.

"He keep trying to pull memories that are purposefully locked away." Isala said quietly. "I... two years, I was in Par Vollen's cells for two years."

Bull tensed as he stared at the elf who was looking away. Two years, that must be wrong. The strongest minds held for some months, tops, and they are never the same as they were after they step out of those cells if they manage to step out alive. "Damn..." He muttered. "How did you..?"

"I... well, they broke me, I lasted... two days maybe? Maybe more, maybe less. Time was  blurred together. I... no you have to hear it all or nothing will make sense and I feel sticky. Bath first then I'll tell you what I know, which isn't much." Isala really just needed an excuse to get some time to collect his thoughts and how he was meant to say it.

Bull filled up the bath while Isala laid sprawled on his stomach on the bed half asleep and half complaining about his ass, now and then snickering over something he remembered from the night before and Bull chuckled lightly at the elf as he worked. They were both still in a more serious mood but clearly the elf was trying to cope with it.

When it came to the bath, they both ended up in the tub, Isala straddling Bull's hips and lazily laid splayed out against his chest, several lazy kisses was exchanged and Bull still wasn't entirely sure what they were, only that he liked this. Bull liked rubbing his hands down the elf's back, finding old and newer scars as he massaged out tension from him. There was no scar that would suggest harm coming from a whip, all this elf's scars must come from his time in Seheron and Bull quietly wondered again if they had met before, in the fog without him knowing. But he doubted it, he'd have felt the smell of the dragon. 

Half dressed (well at least in smalls) Isala sat on the bed, he had taken an efroot potion just to get the ache away. It wasn't just the dull throbbing from Bull fucking him that made him ache. Whenever he got so deep down in his memories his body began aching, a phantom ache that never really went away unless he stuffed a potion down his throat even if he couldn't remember the dream or what had happened in it, the ache would still be there.

Bull had his head in his lap where he laid on his back on the bed. Isala had hooked his legs over Bull's shoulders and rested them down on his chest. Bull's horns rested over his hips and Isala lazily drew his fingers across the rough surface of the horns. They were dry, he had touched both Tenek's and Orchid's horns before and both of them complained whenever they got too dry. They usually smeared them with horn balm to stop them from itching.

He wrinkled his nose slightly and reached over to the night stand and scrambled around before pulling up a tin and balanced it on the pillow beside him as he got some of the balm on his fingers. He had long ago learned how to make it on his own, it wasn't just good for horns, it was good for hard leather as well. 

"You... called me kadan yesterday." He said slowly as he sat rubbing his fingers together to heat the slightly leather smelling balm to a comfortable temperature. Applying a cold balm to the base of Bull's horns would be uncomfortable for the warrior. 

"I did." Bull replied while eyeing his hands with interest. "I meant it too."

Isala blushed slightly but the right corner of his lips curled slightly upwards. _"This is what it's suppose to be like isn't it?"_   He thought smiling slightly.  **"It is."** was the actually helpful thought and he nodded slightly before gently applying the balm by the base of the left horn. Bull groaned and relaxed under his fingers as Isala worked the balm in carefully.

"I... have not done this before... there was masters and then there was Tenek but... it was never... I was never interested in more." He said and focused on his work so he wouldn't have to look Bull in the face to be met with annoyance. 

"You don't have to." Bull said calmly."We don't have to be anything unless you want to." 

"I know. I enjoy that. I enjoy hearing you say it." He said and gently massaged the balm slowly working the balm over the left horn. "But I have to tell you something before you say it again, because... it'll probably change your minds." 

"I would not change my mind, but I would like to hear it... slightly to the left?"

Isala chuckled lightly and rubbed slightly more to the left. "My old master studied dragons, the old gods and such things. His goal was to make a dragon bound to his will but... that was impossible. Instead he had another theory, a dragon soul could be transferred into a person's body and entwine with the carriers minds."

Bull was now putting all his attention on him and Isala chewed his lip nervously as he continued his work. The rough of the horn under his fingers helped to relax him enough not to panic or stop talking. Bull had been fine with him being a fog warrior and the predatory side trusted the Qunari in his lap enough for this to be said so Isala took a breath and nodded, mostly to assure himself.

"It was so much blood... in the air, on the ground, around me, around the dragon. I was taught the skill of the reavers, to draw on blood and keep the life in it to heal myself in a fight, not blood magic but efficient for warriors. My master cast a spell and it hurt... it hurt so bad but I couldn't stop drawing on the dragon blood. When it finally over, I was wrong, broken or fixed I don't know. The colors... there are so many colors in the world, so many sounds and people don't even see it." 

Isala sighed and closed his eyes smiling slightly over the memory of suddenly seeing everything with new brilliant colors. There was so many colors in the world and no one other than him seemed to see them. Someone said green and he saw so many greens it was beyond counting, he would never want to go back to how he was, he'd never want to loose how he saw things now. 

"The dragon laid dead in front of me but it... he, never died, it simply moved. Soon after that I began hearing a voice in my head, telling me to look, to hear, to see. I was a slave and suddenly I saw how wrong that was, I didn't want that life anymore. The dragon showed me a boy, he kissed a girl and she... well she smiled shyly, it wasn't forced it was sweet and... something I'd never experienced."

"That's why you smell like a dragon." Bull said and stroke his hand over his leg that still rested against Bull's muscled chest. "Why you got offended by the dragon in Haven and why dragons focuses on you when we fight'em no matter what the rest of us do." Bull said in revelation. 

"Yes, they feel a male rival on their territory, they don't care about what size I am." He agreed. "He is... well he is me, we are the same but at some point we are still two minds. I am influenced by him and he by me. He like you. You are safe. I like that too, I like you." He said and blushed looking away. 

"Liked by a dragon. That why you don't mind bring called Ataashi huh?" Bull said with a grin.

"Well... hush!" He yanked Bull's horn gently before continuing to work the balm in. Bull just grinned up at him and Isala felt a lot better, it was easier, Bull wasn't telling him he was some kind of demon yet. That's what he himself had thought at first. "When we was to get on a ship back to Tevinter there was a fight, fog pulled in and I killed my master in it, along with his guards... but I knew nothing of freedom. I had lived my entire life in Tevinter, born into slavery." 

He looked away again and Bull reached up gently turning his head to look at the warrior in his lap and Isala gave a weak smile before continuing the work on his horns. He wasn't a slave anymore and he'd never be one again.

"I just laughed, the fog faded and three members of the beresaad found me. I fought them, killed one but I was still leashed and one of them managed to grab it then knock me out. I woke up strapped to a chair while they tried to figure out what I was. They sent me to Par Vollen where they broke me, the dragon stepped in and... I don't know much more. Only that it was nine, thirty one when I went to Par Vollen and it was nine thirty three when a fog warrior dragged me back out."

"When Cole does his thing, he drags the years you can't remember out again?"

"Yes, the dragon locked those down to put me back together to what I once was. When Cole pulls he unlock them and breaks me back down just like the Viddasala once broke me. I know he's trying to help but he... can't. They broke me and that can't be repaired other than how it is now." 

Isala continued quietly to rub the balm over the other horn and left Bull to his thoughts for a while. He felt better, things wasn't so tight in him. He was nervous over what Bull thought, but he was at the same time feeling relieved to get it off his chest.

"Relaxed look good on you Kadan." Isala looked down at him wide eyed. "You don't think telling me you are actually part dragon would put me off do you?" 

Bull chuckled lightly and reached up tugging in some of his wet dreads, pulling him down to an upside down kiss and Isala melted. Even if he was practically bent in two to reach Bull's lips he melted like the ice under sun. He never thought being with Bull would mean so much bending but he didn't really mind it. Actually, he decided he quite liked it.

"So... to the real question. Where did you get your hands on horn balm?" Bull asked against his lips.

Isala snickered amused. "I make it. Like everything else, it happens to be good for hard leather too." 

"Mhmm, good. I want ten cans." 

Isala laughed and kissed him again. "Maybe, if you are nice to me." He hummed. All fear and tension had just bled out and he felt as if he was floating. It was him and it was Bull and Bull didn't even seem to care about his past, he wasn't angry or accusing of anything. Isala hadn't been aware how much he had needed that until he got it. 

"Hey, I am always nice kadan."


	27. 27: The last resort of a weak mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian's personal quest, Cullen suffers withdrawals and Isala witnesses Cullrian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, updates might be getting slower now because I've found a job and thus have less hours to write. But don't worry, I still have many more chapters to write and I have lunch breaks and weekends for writing!

**9:41 Dragon -Skyhold-**

"My lord Inquisitor, may I have a word with you?" 

Isala had been on his way through the main hall to have a chat with Varric when the voice stopped him and the chantry mother blocked his path. He was rather tempted to say _'no'_ to be honest. Just to take a step around her to join Varric, Teheron and Anders by Varric's usual corner. They needed to figure out some good arrangement with Anders. Sooner rather than later, before he'd be found out. He was fairly sure Leliana already knew because she seemed to know everything in Skyhold but before Cassandra found out. When she had found out about Hawke she had nearly killed Varric. 

Alas, now mother Giselle had stopped him and it would only cause her to dislike him more if he ignored her. So he turned to her and gave a short nod of acknowledgement then looked at her expectantly. Even if he defensibly had his arms crossed tightly over his chest. She had tried to convert him to become an Andrastian ever since Haven and he was getting more and more tired of it.

The dragon inside him scoffed and sneered at gods, human and elven alike. The dragon had told Isala that there had once been a woman worthy of respect as she could transform into a dragon at will and her life was eternal as a dragons. They saw her not as a god, but merely an elven woman worthy of respect. Isala had seen a statue once, when he had been with clan Lavellan, a statue the elves claimed to be a picture of the all mother, Mythal. Isala had let the dragon make a small respectful growl before paying it no further attention.

Isala himself had been a believer once. When he was still a slave and citizen of Tevinter. He had known the maker didn't favor elves and that he hadn't been worthy of any divine love or care, yet he had tried really hard to be a good Andrastian. When he had entwined with the dragon his beliefs had been washed away, he had learned to be questioning rather than devout and quickly he had questioned the truth of the maker or Andraste, and in the end he had decided it wasn't something he would believe until he was given proof.

"If you are going to ask me to believe in your maker again you know it is a waste of both our time. I do not believe, in any gods." He said simple. 

"I have other reasons as to speak to you my lord. However, I do still believe it would be better for the people if their leader was...-"

"No. You can force me into believe in your maker no more than you can make me willingly return into slavery. I am not touched by some divine power, this mark on my hand is a body modification from a deranged magister. I will _not_ see that as divinity." He said to her cold. "Come to what you wished to say before I have to go hit something."

"I... of course. I have news concerning your... Tevinter companion. Young Pavus"

Isala snickered lightly, it was always amusing to hear people refer to Dorian by his last name since it quite literary meant peacock. "Oh? What may those news be? I already know you are not very fond of him." He said looking quite amused at her. The revered mother hadn't exactly been subtle in her dislike for Dorian, just as no one else in Skyhold. Not that Isala cared. He liked Dorian, they had become friends easily through their adventures and through Felix.

"There is a letter." She replied and pretended that the last hadn't been said at all. "From the young man's parents. They are worried and do not understand as to why Dorian is here with the inquisition and not at home in Tevinter. They wish to arrange a meeting with a family retainer."

"Then why are you telling me this? Shouldn't you be telling Dorian?" He asked arching a brow. 

"They wish it to be a secret, they fear if they let the young man know, he will not show out of sheer stubbornness and pride. As to why they sent me the letter... their chantry is different but the principles the same."

"Stop. You think I of all people would trick anyone into meeting some Tevinter goon that might is there to ambush him and drag him home? Do you also believe I sacrifice infants or maybe bathe in blood of virgins to keep my beauty?" He asked staring at her in disbelief. 

That he of all people in Thedas would trick anyone into walking into something they most likely didn't wish when Tevinter was anyhow involved... Was as likely as if Corypheus began to care for orphans and handed out candy to the elves in the alienages for the good of his heart.

"I am aware there is deception... but would it not be of worth, we can unite this family?" Mother Giselle still tried to persuade him.

"No. Dorian left Tevinter because something happened, not for his love of cold weather and rain I can assure you." Isala said, making it very clear there was no discussion in this.

"As you wish. I leave this in your hands." 

Giselle handed him a letter and he frowned at it before turning around to go and find Cullen. Dorian and Cullen had gotten closer to each other lately. They played chess every day and he had heard that Cullen had been found several times in the library as Dorian had been seen in Cullen's office. Maybe that Dorian had told something about his family that could determine if it was a bad idea to even bother giving this letter to him or if Isala should go there himself to make sure it was no ambush before telling Dorian. 

He pushed Cullen's door open only to have to duck from something hurling into the door just where his face had been moments before. Thanking for his quick reflexes he stood back straight again looking at Cullen surprised. He really hoped this wasn't a _'The handsome Altus broke up with me'_  fit because that'd be a terrible timing. 

"Did the door offend you?" He asked calmly.

"Makers breath inquisitor! I... am so sorry. I didn't see you..."

"Don't worry about it, it wasn't the worse thing I've got thrown at me. What's going on?" 

Cullen sagged slightly and sighed, then he flinched in pain and grabbed for the desk. Whatever it was that bothered him, it was something big and personal so Isala carefully closed the door behind him. When it was closed he walked over to the desk and gently put his hand to Cullen's arm in a try to comfort the commander. Cullen sighed and pulled away from the touch backing a step. 

"You... may not know but I was in the circle, in Ferelden during the blight. There was abominations, demons! All my friends were slaughtered. They... tried to break me, in my minds, they were... how can someone be the same after that?!"

Cullen had began pacing the room like the agitated lion in a cage who wanted nothing more than to pounce at any moment. Isala slipped up on the desk to sit on it, watching the commander who clearly wasn't done talking. Sometimes the best thing one could do for someone in distress was to listen. Listen until there was no more words to be said.

"I was the only one to survive. Still, I wanted to serve. They sent me to Kirkwall where I... mages weren't even people to me! Meredith was insane and I couldn't... I should have... Don't you see how I want nothing to do with that life anymore!" Cullen snapped.

The commander had stopped the pacing for a while, leaned to the wall looking out through the small window and Isala did understand. He understood being broken, he understood being manipulated, he understood what it was to look back at ones life and see where he had once been blind, where he had followed blindly a leader that only lead to service themselves. 

"Of course I do."

"You shouldn't! You should question me. You should-"  Cullen had turned around and his voice was accusing as he smacked his hand to the table just beside Isala making the elf flinch of taught fear of angry humans slamming things so close to his body. "I should be taking it! I should give as much to the inquisition as I did the order!"

Isala looked at him and then down at the hand just beside him on the desk then grabbed Cullen's wrist with delicate fingers and pulled the blond close for a hug. Cullen tensed in his arms but Isala didn't care, just held on and soon Cullen relaxed and dropped his head to Isala's shoulder and arms wrapped around his middle. Isala could smell Dorian on the fur on Cullen's shoulders and it made him smile slightly, so the commander _did_ have something going with Dorian. Good, they would be good for each other.

"I am broken too Cullen. Once in Tevinter, once under the Qun. Even when we are broken there is something that can fix us." He said calmly. Repeating words said to him long time ago by Orchid. 

"Time is not....helping." Cullen sighed to his shoulder. 

"Of course not, time make you bitter. People, friends, family and loved ones. Those who care for us, they help. You are part of this little and families help each other, as we will help you." He said calmly.

"I... thank you." 

Isala held on a little longer to Cullen before letting him go and smiled slightly. "I am going to tell Dorian to sniff through your room and get rid of any trace of lyrium for you." He said and slipped off the desk. He knew the southern templars took lyrium. He had known for a while Cullen suffered withdrawals. Not that Cullen had told him, he had noted it on the way he acted, it had been easy to figure it was lyrium.

"How did you..?" Cullen was blushing and Isala chuckled lightly shaking his head. "I mean.. I don't want to.. bother Dorian if he-"

"Dorian is here often enough for your clothes to smell of him." Isala calmly cut off and smiled.

"H... how did you?" Cullen stuttered as he blushed furiously. "Does... it.. smell a lot?" 

Isala snickered amused "Elves have excellent senses. I nearly die every time I have to spend time with Vivienne's perfumes. Though she is excellent company. Dorian either wore that coat of yours of he cleaned it for you, either way it smells like him." 

Culled rubbed the back of his neck and Isala wondered how far that blush was actually spreading because he was red like a tomato. Maybe he could ask Dorian, the altus aught to know. Isala had to fight himself not to laugh at the poor commander for his own thought pattern. He somehow doubted that laughing would make things easier for Cullen and he did come there for a reason that wasn't being amused over his commander being flustered over his Tevinter lover.

When they had spoken for a while they decided it would be better to tell Dorian first. Dorian'd want to know about the letter and he'd want to make the decision on his own if this was worth on following up on or not. Dorian _had_  talked to Cullen about some things from his past but if Isala wanted to know, he'd have to ask Dorian. Isala respected that Cullen cared enough to keep Dorian's secrets.

They both found Dorian in his usual alcove in the library. However he wasn't alone, he was being argued with by mother Giselle. Isala sighed and arched a brow while crossing his arms over his chest with an annoyed sigh wondering what was going on now. This woman had her heart in the right place, but damn if she wasn't going on every last nerve Isala had in his body.

"What's going on here?" He asked with a frown.

"Inquisitor, Commander." Dorian's eyes lingered on Cullen this time instead of on Isala's chest. "It seems the revered mother is concerned over my undue influence over you." Dorian said as he waved his hand dismissively as if it was nothing new.

"It is just concern... your worship you must know how this look. This man is from Tevinter, his presence at your side... the rumors alone..." The woman looked at him. 

Isala quietly wondered if the revered mother had forgotten that Isala was from Tevinter himself, or if she had somehow missed that information. He was rather certain that the information had come out to the public after Redcliffe when he'd met Alexius. Though it could be due to the fact that he was an elf and his time in Tevinter was slavery, not mage nobility. However, Isala wasn't fond of hearing bad things about Dorian.

"Giselle **I** am from Tevinter." Isala said arching a brow. "I was born there, lived there until I was eighteen. After that I lived in Seheron which is practically both Tevinter and Qunari in one."

"I... see. If you feel this man is without ulterior motives..."

"I doubt it. Besides, I like my men with pointy ears and horns. Go and bother Bull about that instead." He knew Bull wouldn't even be budged if the mother actually dared taking him up of that. "Though if Sera set's an arrow in your ass on the way don't come complaining at me." He said and smiled pointedly at her.

Giselle didn't look even a little amused and Dorian stifled a laugh by coughing into his hand while looking away with glee, fooling absolutely no one. Cullen was back to having a tomato color staring in horror at Isala. However if it was because of what Isala had said or if it was trying to imagine how a Qunari and a small elf would even work in the bedroom, was hard to say. 

Giselle gave both Dorian and Isala pointed looks and aimed her polite goodbye at Cullen as if he was the only respectable man in the trio. Which to be honest possibly was true, in her eyes anyway. Isala snickered lightly when the woman had left and shook his head in amusement. 

"She do have a good heart though. She is just infuriatingly annoying trying to make me into a good little Andrastian. I actually was one once. She'd have liked me better fifteen years ago. Of course she'd have to be in Tevinter and I'd probably be found on my knees of the floor." He said thoughtfully.

"You believe in the maker?" Cullen asked surprised. 

"Oh I did. Always thought I didn't deserve it though. A filthy knife eared slave but it was all I had once. It changed when I... broke free from that life, there is no gods, just people doing impressive things and stories turning into legend." He said dismissive. "Anyway... Dorian there was something I wanted you, there is a letter for you. And sorry but no, not the fun kind"

"Oh? Have you not composed me a dirty letter then?" Dorian asked in playful disappointment.

"No, you have to ask Cullen for those. This one's from your father, if it is a dirty letter I will be very concerned." Isala said and fished it up from his belt and held it over to the Altus. 

Dorian grabbed for it with a sour face as began reading it. Isala slipped down on the armchair and quietly looked as Dorian's face shifted from mild annoyance to anger and he began pacing while reading it one more time. Cullen was looking at Dorian with concern. The same concern Isala sometimes saw in Bull at times when Bull looked at him and Isala was suddenly feeling his chest heat up with some warm soft feeling.

"I know my son! What my father knows about me wouldn't fill a thimble!" Dorian said outraged.

"He is still your father Dorian." Cullen said carefully

The commander peeked around then gently took Dorian's free hand. Dorian startled slightly at the touch and threw his gaze at Isala. The elf just smiled knowingly and Dorian sighed quietly but laced his fingers with the commanders as he took a deep breath. Isala wondered for how long they actually had been doing each other for Dorian to be comfortable enough to hold hands in such a public place. 

They were good for each other though. Cullen clearly needed good experience with mages from what little he had just heard in Cullen's office. Dorian coming from Tevinter most likely had never had certainties in his love life before this and Cullen seemed like a steady relationship kind of guy, not just the guy who fucked and left. 

"Barely." Dorian huffed but sighed deeply. "This is more likely a goon waiting to knock me over the head."

"I will come with you." Cullen said instantly. "If there's anything wrong we'll leave."

Dorian looked at Cullen. Isala saw what he hoped Dorian saw. Cullen looked so fiercely loyal and ready to defend Dorian that Isala didn't doubt Cullen would fight Corypheus single handed if given the chance, just to save Dorian.

"We will go then... but if I wish to leave, we leave." 

* * *

**9:41 Dragon -Redcliffe-**

Redcliffe village was a lot more quiet and peaceful now that the rebel mages and Alexius wasn't tormenting the place. Isala, Cullen and Dorian had all three of them left Skyhold with no further explanation than that there was some things that needed to be dealt with and they would be back within a week, most likely sooner. Cassandra hadn't argued since Cullen was joining the inquisitor even if she did very pointedly tell him that now was not the time for vanishing again. 

"So this is it." Dorian said tensely as he stared at the door to the tavern in mortification. 

"Between you, me and the commander not even the stupidest of thug would attack. If they do, we end them." Isala said cheery and patted his arm. 

"I suppose. You sure have a knack for killing tings, and a history of killing Vints if you're actually a fog warrior." Dorian said and sighed. 

Isala chuckled and nodded agreeing "would you have preferred me to paint myself white and cover the floor in an ominous mist? That can still be done." He assured and tapped one of the vials in his belts that wasn't poison.

Dorian laughed lightly, a strained and forced laugh before he shook his head, took a last long breath and then pushed the door open. Isala watched the altus steel himself, stretch out holding his head high before entering. Isala followed just behind his left and Cullen took up his right like if they would have been Dorian's personal bodyguards. Well, as for right now they _were_ Dorian's personal bodyguards.

The tavern was empty and Isala fingered his daggers quietly. He didn't like empty, empty meant that something bad was possibly about to happen and Tevinter always made him twitchy. The plan was to fight if something happened, if things went sideways Isala would drop his vial and fill the place with a fog while dragging Dorian and Cullen out for a retreat.

"Uh-oh, no one's here. This doesn't bode well." Isala stared at Dorian, didn't the man know  **not** to say things like that? He'd jinx them.

"Dorian." A voice came from the stairs as a man walked in. 

Isala arched a brow because that man was most definitively a relative to Dorian in some sort of way, no doubt. They were fairly alike, Dorian was more handsome, but Isala did not doubt the elder of the men had once looked quite good as well. "Father..." Ah, father and son. It made sense. "So the whole story about the family retainer was what? A smoke screen?"

"Then you were told... I apologize for the deception inquisitor. I never intended you to get involved."

"Of course not! Magister Pavus couldn't come to Skyhold and be seen with the dread inquisitor. What would people think?" Dorian snapped angry. "What is this father? Ambush? Kidnapping?" 

"This is how it has always been." Dorian's father said tiredly pinching the bridge of his nose.

Isala arched a brow then walked over to the bar and jumped up on it watching the two. "This is about your sexual orientation isn't it?" He asked and looked between them. It was either that or the necromancy. "And Dorian do have exclusive rights on angry since you tricked us to get him here magister Pavus." He pointed out looking straight at the elder Pavus.

"Yes, this is because I prefer the company of men, I am a deviation who was threatening their idyllic little plan for me." Dorian said glaring at his father.

"An Altus not prepared to produce an heir." Isala said and nodded understanding. "That is the reason you left then?"

"Wait that is a problem in Tevinter?" Cullen asked surprised then flushed over how he had drawn attention to himself. It was clear that Cullen was lost in this conversation and Isala smiled slightly, Cullen sometimes was so pure it hurt. 

"Only if you want to live up to an impossible standard." Dorian said and frowned looking at Cullen. "The noble families are interbreeding to create the perfect mage. The perfect body, perfect mind, the perfect leader." Dorian said in annoyance and Cullen still looked lost.

"Because he's an Altus and men can't have children with other men. Meaning no more mageling altuses in the Pavus line. They don't marry for love. That is why they rarely have many children unless they are bastards and bastard children with slaves and whores doesn't count. Dorian being exceptionally skilled could easily with the right social ties become archon if he put his mind behind it." Isala explained to Cullen. 

"Makers breath. That's... I am so sorry you had to grow up with that." Cullen was eyeing both of them with big eyes. 

Dorian waved his hand dismissively "Had it only been that I would not have cared. After all I had ignored it all my life." Dorian said with a shake of his head but then glared at his father. "But what was the first thing you did when your precious heir refused to play pretend?" Dorian snapped.

"Dorian there is no need for..."

" _He_ taught me to hate Blood magic! The resort of a week mind! Those are _his!_  words. Yet you tried to.... Change me..." Dorian said the last sounding genuinely hurt, not angry, just hurt, and for good reason if blood magic was involved. 

Isala slipped down the bench fingers digging hard to the hilts of his daggers. Cullen took a step forwards as well, tense and looking ready to protect Dorian against anything. As if the elder Pavus would break out sacrificing people and attack with blood magic at any moment now without hesitation. 

"I only wanted what was best for you." Halward said with something akin to regret. 

Isala didn't buy it though. Halward was apparently a blood mage and he was a magister. Isala wasn't going to trust him with anything, especially not his word or how he made his voice sound like. Cullen seemed to loose some tension, being conflicted over what to do. Dorian however seemed to be on the same conclusions Isala were on, not to trust the magister.

"You wanted what was best for you! You and your fucking legacy! Anything for that!"

Cullen gently put his hand to Dorian's arm, quietly speaking to Dorian and very carefully tried for his hand. Isala saw Dorian tense even worse, eyes glancing between Cullen's hand and his father then back on their hands. Then Dorian slowly laced their fingers together with care. Isala smiled slightly over that. Cullen would be really good for Dorian and the face Halward was making over the display was priceless.

"Give him a chance to say what he want Dorian." Cullen said calmly. "You don't have to forgive him or even like what he say... just, listen to it?"

Isala saw Dorian softened up slightly. It wasn't that it showed much, it was just the slightest relaxation around the lines. He could see it, since he had been taught to see it. Isala cleared his throat and straightened out before informing them all that he'd be waiting outside if they needed him. This was clearly something he wasn't part of. Dorian gave him the shadow of a smile and a small nod and Isala left the building to wait out in the sun.

* * *

**9:41 Dragon -Skyhold-**

"Dorian are you alright?" 

They were back from their trip to Redcliffe. On their ride back Dorian hadn't spoken a word to either of them. Him and Cullen had held hands but other than that Dorian had been distant. Neither Isala or Cullen had prodded the silence, they both knew why and they both understood Dorian would need some time. However now that they were back, Isala was starting to get a bit worried and had decided to at least make sure he was okay.

He couldn't ask Cullen because Cullen had joined him outside of the tavern only some minutes after Isala had walked outside, leaving the two Tevinter mages to talk in private  to let out what needed to be let out. Now Dorian was staring out the little window in his alcove, exhaustion evident in his eyes. Isala leaned slightly to a bookshelf and watched Dorian where he stood. The look of tire was one Isala was familiar with, it wasn't tired due to sleep deprivation, it was the tire that came after being emotionally drained.

"No. Not really." Dorian said tiredly. "He says we're alike. Too much pride. Once I'd be overjoyed hearing that, now.... I'm not so certain." 

"Do you want to tell me what happened between you?" 

"I wouldn't put on a show, marry the girl live their idyllic little picture. So, he tried to change me. He was going to do a blood ritual to change what I am. So I left."

Dorian turned to look at him and Isala crossed his arms over his chest and nodded looking at Dorian. Not even the nobles got away from rituals and being forced to things they didn't want to happen to them. He wasn't sure if it was a horror or a comfort that it extended all slaves of Tevinter. Probably a horror, at least when it came to Dorian who was his friend. 

"Blood magic could have gone terribly wrong." Isala said with a shiver.

"Yes. More likely it would have left me a drooling vegetable. The thought that he thought that absurd risk preferable to scandal... Part of me wished he never wanted to go through with it." Dorian admitted and sighed. 

"For what it's worth, I am happy you are you, and that you are here. I believe Cullen is as well."

Dorian smiled and chuckled lightly giving a nod. That he didn't make some joke or flashy comment about that he was supposed to be happy told that Dorian really was shaken up and hurt by this whole deal. But the mention of Cullen did give that genuine smile of his.

"Maker knows what you must think of me now."

"The same as yesterday. You are a friend Dorian and I value that."

"And I still think you are a good man." Cullen's voice said as he joined them with a little smile. 

Dorian perked up even more and looked between them both. Isala chuckled lightly and backed a step. "Well, I should... err do that thing." He said and winked at Dorian and made a thumbs up before quickly escaping to let them talk in peace or kiss or whatever they planned. He for his part planned to find and ride the Bull. 


	28. 28: The chargers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting the chargers and a nightly meeting in the war room that Cullen would NOT approve.

**9:41 Dragon -Skyhold-**

Isala had just slipped into the tavern to have a chat with Sera, but before he reached the stairs, Krem had called him over. Him and the chargers were just about to start a hand of wicked grace and some drinking, inviting Isala to join them, to get to know them a bit better. Isala grinned as he flopped down on an empty chair beside his fellow vint. He already knew Krem but he was curious of the rest of them.

"So you and boss huh. We're all curious. How does it fit?" Krem said with a grin.

Isala groaned loudly and dropped his head to the table as the chargers broke out in laughter. Where the hell Bull was he had no idea and Isala was starting to believe this might be a bad idea, but still he stayed. "I am flexible." He grunted to the table, blush showing even through his dark complexion all the way up the pointy ears. Not that he managed to keep his sour face for long and soon broke out in muffled laughter with the rest of them. How the hell Qunari fit in him was a question he had heard before and wasn't entirely sure about himself. "And a lot of oil, tongue and fingers." he said as he peeked up just to wink cheeky.

"Alright! Maker I don't actually want to hear!" Krem said with a laugh. "Well however it works, you need an official greeting of the chargers. That over there is Rocky, let's call him our explosion expert." Krem began as an introduction.

Isala got to know all the chargers as they played cards and drank the swill the dwarf served them. Rocky was an Orzamar exile since he accidentally blew up part of the shapearate. Of course Isala had no idea what the hell a shapearate was so Rocky had to explain that before it made sense. Skinner was an elf who had killed some humans for what they had done against some of her fellow elves in her alienage. She was a bit short while talking but Isala didn't mind. He was the last  to judge anyone for being quiet to he honest.  

Stitches was their healer. A human making perfect potions and poultices that apparently Bull drank instead of applying. Dalish was a mage even if she denied it if anyone claimed she was one. Her staff was in fact no staff at all (according to her anyway), it was a bow, she informed him, and when Krem pointed out it had a crystal she claimed it was for aiming making them all laugh. Grim was a human who didn't actually talk much and Isala could relate to that, sometimes life was easier when silent. 

They were in the middle of a rowdy (though friendly) argument about weapons and what was best in a fight against different enemies. Rocky begging Isala to let him have a vial of the fog for studying and Isala promptly refused with the rest of the table agreeing on the refusal. Rocky just grumbled about figuring it out of his own. Isala chuckled lightly shaking his head amused. It was ridiculously hard to make the fog even with the right ingredients and the knowledge of how exactly to do. So, Rocky could try all he wanted.

Isala squeaked startled, dropped his cards and nearly spilling out the drink he had been nursing with his other hand as he was pulled up by strong arms from his seat. Then immediately dragged down again, now in Bull's lap. He growled loudly over the fact that he hadn't noticed the huge Qunari walk up behind him. "Dammit Bull, I had a good hand!" He huffed and hit his shoulder as the others roared by laughter and whistles. 

"I'll make it up to you later." Bull promised him with a cheeky grin.

Isala snorted and just put his hand over Bull's mouth when the larger man tried for a kiss. "No, you fucked up my good hand, no kisses for you." He scolded and tossed his card to Krem who was blending all their cards again for a new game. "I'll ignore you now, so hush." He said with his cutest smile. 

"Awww, come on boss, that's cruel even for you." Bull huffed muffled behind his hand, then licked it with a grin.

Isala quickly pulled his hand back and wiped it off against Bull's chest making a disgusted face, growling slightly. Not that he actually minded Bull's tongue anywhere on his body, but they were among other people and Isala wasn't drunk enough for that kind of display quite yet. Well, maybe he wanted to get a nice feel of the Qunari and this was an excellent excuse to get it without it being actually indecent.

"You need someone who put you in place Chief" Krem announced as he dealt the cards again. 

Isala laughed and looked over his new cards, they weren't terrible but not as good as his last hand. Bull leaned his chin against his shoulder and looked at the cards silently. The two of them teaming up on cards was probably not even a little fair unless it was a game against Josephine, Leliana and Fenris. Neither Isala, Fenris, Josephine or Leliana had many tells. Fenris and Isala taught most of their lives to maintain emotionless mask for their masters, Josephine was an Antivan politician and Leliana was spymaster. Sometimes Isala even provided with false tells just to throw people off guard.

Through the game Isala focused on their cards while Bull mumbled how their opponents were acting. This way, the couple had won three out of four times. They lost the time Bull decided it was funnier to whisper dirty things in Isala's ears making the elf flustered and his ears flicker outside his control. Isala had tried to focus until he simply gave up his cards for a breathtaking make out session. 

There were whistles over their kisses but the chargers soon continued the card game and chattering as if nothing strange was happening. Isala probably should stop drinking while being with Bull in public. But being drunk was nice, having people watching him with Bull like this was a guilty secret pleasure he'd never admit to out loud or follow up on while sober.

After a while Sera joined them by the table, drinking, not playing cards. Or rather she and Dalish joined team. Some time later, Varric, Teheron, Anders and Felix also joined them by the table. As the night began creeping on them they added in even more and stronger alcohol to the mix, even if Isala had cut down to sip on just water not to loose his head entirely.

There was bawdy singing and storytelling, Varric had a competition with Teheron about crazy tales and the chargers was soon joining with crazy tells about giant baiting, Orlesian nobles and strange fights. Varric countered with tales from Kirkwall, Hawke and the odd gang of misfits that had followed Hawke through several years. Teheron won telling them about a time with him, Zevran and Leliana doing something that involved Ferelden's king, twelve goats, fifteen nugs and a butterfly In Denerim.

Isala smiled and just enjoyed how he slowly got more and more sleepy where he sat on Bull's lap. He shifted slightly and dropped his head against his Qunari's broad shoulder while pulling his knees to his chest, resting his bare feet to Bull's thigh. Usually this would have been time used for a much needed nap, but ever since Bull had taken up residence in Isala's bed more often than not Isala didn't need napping, he slept through the nights anyway with Bull.  

"Okay that's it. Ataashi, bedtime." Bull grunted after the third time Isala had startled back awake by a loud noise from having fallen asleep.

Isala's head was buzzing from drink and being comfortably tired, so he slipped his feet to the floor and stood up without complaint. He stretched out lazily like a cat with his arms over his head but squeaked loudly when Bull pulled him up from the floor and kissed him. He huffed against the surprise kiss but soon kissed back and wrapped his arms around Bull's neck. What else was there to do when a large Qunari held one a decimeter over the floor.

Isala waved his goodbyes to the others since his mouth was otherwise engaged by Bull, drunk enough not to care that tomorrow all of Skyhold would know that the two was somehow involved. Outside Bull gently let him down to the ground and Isala hummed smiling but stayed close not wanting to part from Bull just quite yet.

"I like them." Isala hummed and smiled up at Bull. 

"They are good and they are mine. I will never not be proud of them." Bull said with pride. "Thanks for meeting with them boss."

Bull leaned in bumping their foreheads together and Isala closed  his eyes putting his hands up against Bull's neck as he closed his eyes just smiling happily. Isala knew the chargers were important to Bull and he knew Bull was happy that Isala liked them. Not that Isala had ever doubted that he'd like the chargers, to be honest he had been rather certain he'd get along well with them.

"Come on you big ox-man, we are going to adamant tomorrow we should sleep." He hummed and tilted his head for a kiss. 

Bull chuckled lightly against his lips and they just stood kissing for a long while before Bull pulled back with a grin "Yeah, first we're taking a detour though, I have a surprise for you." Bull grunted and put his hands on Isala's shoulders to lead him somewhere unknown. Isala simply let himself be lead to wherever Bull was leading them, hoping there would be a bed and at least one of their cocks involved.

* * *

Somewhere unknown turned out to be the war room and Isala arched a confused brow at Bull. They hadn't been seen on their way there since everyone around Skyhold that wasn't in the tavern had gone to bed but Isala simply couldn't get why they were there. Was there a war meeting he had missed? No, Cullen, Leliana and Josephine wasn't there and it was the middle of the night.

"Bull what are we-"

He was cut off by Bull pushing him face and chest first down to the table scattering out markers all around Orlais and Isala gasped as Bull's massive body pressed against his smaller one, suddenly very aware as to why they were in the war room and his mouth shaped a surprised 'o', eyes widened. This wasn't exactly in the private of his bedroom, anyone could walk in on them... and Isala was thrilled, moaning loudly at the very thought of being caught as Bull yanked down his leather leggings down his hips.

"You ignored me tonight little dragon." Bull growled in his ear.

Isala moaned and smacked his forehead to the table. He was getting hard, and that fast. "I did... I ain't sorry." He said grinning cheeky. "What you gonna do abo-AH!" Bull had pushed a finger into his ass, slicked with what Isala assumed was Bull's own spit. Isala began panting, heat rushing in his body and the speed of his heart increased madly.

Bull's hot tongue ran over his spine, fingers moving his dreads away from his back and the other hand holding entirely still, one finger still up his ass but not filling him the way Isala wanted to be filled. He had to bite his lip not to say he was sorry just to get Bull to take him, this time he intended to win. Well, there would be two winners no matter how this went, but Isala planned on being the verbal winner as well.

"Are you sorry?" Bull asked softly by his ear.

"N..no oh!" He arched when Bull curled his finger stroking over his prostate. "Oh, oh, oh, Bull!" He gasped trying to push back against the finger inside him but Bull easily pushed him on place against the table with one hand to his back pressing him to the map on the table without mercy, making him whine and moan at once. 

"Hm... that so?" Bull asked low and husky, still by his pointed ear. "You sure you're not sorry hm?"

When Bull began moving his finger slowly inside him making the other fingers stroke over his balls, Isala moaned loudly and grasped the edge of the table tightly down by his hips. He was trying desperately to brace himself for what Bull was doing. It felt naughty to do this here, on the table, and that made things so much better, he never really thought he'd get off on that but here he was, with Bull, and the thrill was there, excited by the very thought of being caught. 

"N-n..no..." He whimpered and shook his head, his dreads splaying on the table covering parts of his face.

A slap rung through the room and Isala let out a surprised yelp mixed in a moan by the slap to his ass. Hot pleasurable pain that traveled straight to his cock making it twitch and leak. The finger having stilled inside him and Bull's free hand squeezing the reddening ass cheek.

Bull leaned in close to his ear "Last chance." He murmured. Isala vigorously shook his head and took a deep breath then shook his head again. Oh fuck he wanted this so bad he wasn't giving in, ever.  Well, right now anyhow. "Well, five to each cheek, then you can tell me you're sorry." Bull said and nibbled one of the gold rings in Isala's right ear making Isala whine in anticipation.

Bull hummed content as he pulled his finger out making Isala whine over the loss. Then another sharp slap rung through the room and Isala Jerked forwards as much as he could, restricted by the table and cried out this time as the slap had been a lot harder than the first one. He didn't doubt there would be a pretty red mark there for some days to come. he didn't mind, oh fuck, he just wanted more of Bull's hands on his ass. Another slap rung through the room and he cried out again, body jerking forwards against the table one more time and quickly bit his lip. 

"Such a pretty little dragon. Eight more to go, can you handle that?" 

Isala sighed happily and nodded. He didn't need Bull to ask him questions to be comfortable with what they did, but it was nice to hear them nonetheless. It made him feel safe. Another slap, a bit harder and Isala growled low and deep from his chest and then three more slaps were handed out in rapid succession over his other cheek and he began blabbering as every slap drove another jolt of pleasure down his now achingly hard unattended cock. 

When the final slaps had been delivered Bull asked again if he was ready to say he was sorry and Isala snarled at him in reply and bit after his hand when the Qunari had moved his hand up to his cheek to tilt his head. That in turn only made Bull laugh and deliver ten more slaps to his ass in different strength and Isala was sobbing by the last one. 

"Fuck I'm sorry! Bull! Just fuck! I need you so much, I won't ignore you again." He sobbed out as Bull leaned back in. "Please touch me." He begged, throwing all thought of verbal victory aside. He didn't need it as much as he needed Bull to do him.

"Oh, and do you deserve to be rewarded? Will you be good?" Bull asked, nibbling his ear. 

"Ah! I'll be so good Please, please please I'll be good for you Bull." He gasped as Bull trailed his ear with his tongue, then pulled back and flipped him around over the table. 

Isala groaned as his back hit Orlais and he grinned pleased over the thought of being an elf, fucked by a Qunari over Orlais. Bulls fingers came into view for his face and Bull smirked smug. "Give me some slick Ataashi." He grunted and Isala moaned and opened his mouth, probably a bit too eager and swallowed down the two fingers that was slipped into his mouth, worked his tongue around the digits making sure to coat them properly with saliva. 

With spit slicked fingers Bull stretched him open enough to be able to fit himself into his heat. Fingers pulled out and tugged him close, grabbing by his hips instead in an iron grip enough to leave fingerprinted bruises there later. Isala threw one of his legs up helpfully over Bull's shoulder wrapping the other one around his hip while his head smacked back down against the table.

Bull maneuvered them some to line up with Isala's entrance and Isala could feel the head of that massive cock ready to penetrate him and groaned loudly in anticipation before Bull sank deep inside him with one single powerful thrust. As always it was tight and just this side of painful before his ass had the  time to fully adjust to the size of Bull's hard cock. Isala could do nothing more coherent than growl and hiss over the intrusion. 

Bull began with small rolls of his hips wile folding over so they could share loving kisses as they waited for Isala to be able to take on more. Bull always gave what Isala needed, time, teasing, kisses, love... It frustrated him enough but in the end Bull always gave what he wanted and what he needed, he had not once been disappointed by his and Bull's games. 

Isala groaned and clawed to Bull's massive arms and hummed to the kisses. "Fuck, Bull." He moaned and smacked his head down on the table again and growled  a feral growl. He wanted, no needed more and he needed it now.

Bull luckily understand his cue and began pounding into his ass while Isala continued clawing desperately to the muscled arms on each side of his head while making all kinds of noises of pleasure. Bull was an expert on how to fuck him, managing stroking his prostate with every thrust he made, knowing just how hard to go and just how deep to push. 

His tipping point came quick and hard, Bull taking mercy on him at once letting him come between them with a loud cry. Bull followeed soon after pumpung in the very last of his load and Isala just sighed, blissfully filled up by Bull's seeds where he laid. He was humming his content with his eyes closed and a stupid smile on his lips, Bull might just have fucked him stupid, and he didn't mind it even a little bit.

"Damn kadan." Bull huffed as he leaned heavily against Isala's frame, still joined by Bull's massive length. "Don't move, have to clean you up before any get's on the map, Cullen would go in the roof if he found cum splattered over the maps." Bull said playfully.

Isala chuckled tiredly "Hmhmm." Was the only thing he managed to reply, too captivated by the bliss caused from his orgasm. 

He whined when Bull pulled out but the whine died in his throat and turned into a groan as Bull threw his legs up over his horns then hot tongue lapped his entrance. "Oh... Bull..." He gasped tiredly and felt his mouth fall open his eyes widening again. He had thought it before and he'd think it many times again, Bull would be the death of him, and he didn't even care a little, it was a damn nice way to go.

"Can't have you dripping all over Orlais Ataashi, can we." Bull hummed where he sat on his knees on the floor, Isala still splayed on the table.

"Oh fuck... Can't have that." Isala gasped trying to breath. "Yesyesyesyes!" He moaned as Bull flicked his tongue inside of him. 

Bull was gentle with his tongue, pleasantly teasing and Isala squirmed curling his toes and fingers while giving up small needy noises with some halfhearted soft blabbering. He was too well fucked, tired and drunk to make any more loud noises. Not even when Bull finished him off, licking his stomach and half hard cock clean did he manage to make much more noises than happy sighs and soft moans. 

Isala let Bull manhandle him back into his clothes before Isala found himself horizontal and carried back to his own bedroom. He always loved the sex he had with Bull, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't love how gentle and Caring Bull was with him after just as much.

Isala fell asleep somewhere as Bull climbed the stairs.


	29. 29: Aftermath of Adamant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isala heads to the emerald graves after Adamant. In need of some time away from being the inquisitor. This time however he bring company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry over the slow updates. My work takes up so much time!

**9:17 Dragon -Minrathous-**

The little elf boy happily toddled over the ground of his masters garden, he liked outside, outside was warm and sunny. Inside he just had to do boring things. Like scrub the floors clean with water and soap until his fingers were like raisins and he had nearly died out of boredom. His mother always told him that he had to do whatever their master wanted, but his master wanted so boring things that the little elf boy constantly dreamed himself away to somewhere more exciting.

That was the reason why he kept tripping over things or why things fell to the ground around him. He simply forgot to think about reality, faded away in his daydream world. Every time he fell, his mother looked sad and tired, that made him feel endlessly guilty. The young elf boy didn't know what to do to make his mother happy, he couldn't help falling. He couldn't help dreaming away, life was so much more fun when he pretended to be a warrior fighting dragons and evils.

He used to dream he could grab his mother and they would ride way from this mansion on a white horse, away from Tevinter, to a place where they could choose what to do on their own. He wanted them both to be free so she could stop looking so sad whenever he tripped and hurt himself. He wanted her to smile and be happy, that's why _he_ always smiled, to show her what smiling was, maybe she had forgotten how it was done sometime long ago.

He squeaked when a ladybug landed on his nose and broke his train of thoughts, stopping him mid step to stare at the ladybug. With his eyes crossed he just stood there stupidly as the insect just walked around on his nose. A giggle was heard from his left and he looked there for the source of the sound with a snap of his head. It was his masters daughter, a blond girl with green eyes. The elf boy quickly bowed his head in respect for his betters, which in turn made the ladybug fly away.

"Young mistress" He said carefully and played with his foot in the dirt.

"Play with me?" She asked smiling widely as she came over and tapped his arm. "Tag! You're it!" She squeaked and ran.

The elf boy with long black hair looked up confused for a moment then shone up and his pointy ears perked, she wanted to play tag. He knew that game well, he simply didn't ever get to play it since slaves didn't get to run around and laugh too loudly. The boy quickly chased her through the garden, reaching out and tagged her before making a turn and quickly darted away from her not to be tagged back.

Both children were giggling while they tagged each other and kept running until they were utterly tired. After a while they laid sprawled out in the grass, just watching the clouds in the sky while regaining their breaths. His masters daughter turned to him after a while with a grin, grabbing his hand and laced their little fingers together. "Do you like cookies?" She asked him with a sweet smile. 

"I don't know... I never had one." He admitted and blushed. "I'm clumsy, clumsy slaves don't get rewarded, we get punished." He said carefully. 

"You wasn't clumsy now." She said to him and smiled "And you have to have cookies! They are really good! Come!" She said eagerly and crawled back up standing on her feet. There was a little grass stain on her dress but the young mistress didn't seem to care. 

The elf boy quickly scrambled up on his feet and followed her. Realizing she was right. All through their wild chase he hadn't tripped or fell over even once, he hadn't even daydreamed away from this place. The little elf boy had just enjoyed having fun with the human girl. They slipped into the kitchens unnoticed and she pointed up at a locker on the wall.

"There is cookies in the top shelf. I will stand guard and you climb, because I have a dress and I can't climb in it." She explained.

The elf boy bit his lip nervously. He wasn't allowed, he knew that... but she was masters daughter, certainly he had to listen to her didn't he? He finally nodded and grinned at her before he began climbing the counters to get up to the cookies on the shelf she had pointed at.

He easily found the cookies in a pale blue jar and grabbed some of the cookies before the girl came back to the room hurriedly. "Quick! There is someone coming!" She whispered to him and held her hand up to help him down. The elf quickly slunk down with her help, lacing their fingers again. The moment the door opened the two children ran out the other door of the room and neither stopped until they found a closet to hide in.

When they were sure they weren't followed they began giggling madly over the excitement and their success over the cookie theft. 

"How many did you get?"

"I don't know." He said and held them up. The boy couldn't count, he was just a slave and such things wasn't taught out to slaves, especially not bad ones.

The girl quickly divided the cookies and split one in the middle, giving him half. He knew she didn't have to be fair but he was really happy that she was. They both ate their cookies in silence while huddled together in the dark closet. After a little while she huffed and made a small shimmering orb over their heads with magic to illuminate them.

"I like your ears, they are pretty." She said and smiled.

"Thank you, mother says they are for hearing good." He said and giggled.

"Can I touch?"

"Okay. But don't pull, they are sensitive."

The girl didn't pull. She just gently stroke her fingers over them up and down along the tip then giggled lightly and curled closer. Before they parted she kissed his cheek and smiled at him "I hope we can play again before I go to the circle." She said cheery before leaving him. 

He hoped so too, why couldn't he always be allowed to play with his masters daughter? He could come with her when she went to the circle, maybe she could teach him magics.

* * *

**9:41 Dragon -The Emerald graves-**

After the chaos adamant Isala had dragged Bull, Sera, Varric and Dorian to the Emerald graves for some freemen of the dales hunting, and other such trivial questing. Like collecting those odd key shards or solve the odd astrariums. No one asked why Isala felt he needed to do this right now, why he didn't even bother to go back to Skyhold before venturing out again. They all already knew why.

Everyone in this little group had volunteered to join him after Adamant. All of them happy about the relaxed change of environment (in comparison to adamant anyhow). Isala was just happy that he didn't have to make any important choices, even if just for a little while longer. while they were in the Emerald graves, he didn't have to be a leader. No, during these days, he was an excited twenty elf in his late twenties who had had dragged his friends along on a hike in the forest. They even had a hot comforting sun blazing down on them through the greenery.

Adamant had been full of demons, blood sacrifices, a dragon, a Tevinter magister, along with physically falling into the fade and fighting a nightmare, literary. Isala had been forced to make choices that lead to the death of a good man in the fade. Not that it ended in that, outside the fade he had to decide the fate of the entire grey warden order that was still in Orlais. 

The reason they had lost a good man in the fade was due to the huge demon that had been lurking there, blocking their way outside. Isala had wanted to be the one to stay behind, he head learned how he had got his mark and he should have died with it, unfortunately the people of Thedas needed his mark to fight against Corypheus. That had left Teheron, Stroud Hawke and Fenris still in the fade with him, one of them would have to stay behind. 

Hawke had said he should be the one to stay behind. After all, he was the reason Corypheus was even free to start with. However Fenris had knocked him out cold before Hawke had the time to finish that sentence, had grabbed a hard grip to Hawke's armor and staff to drag him out, making if perfectly clear Hawke was not going to be the man staying behind.

That left Teheron and Stroud, who'm were both grey wardens. Stroud was the older but Teheron the senior of the two in rank. In the end Stroud had been the one to remain, it had come down to the fact that Teheron had someone waiting out there for him. Teheron had family, friends, a fiance, and Stroud refused to get out of there when Teheron had so much more yet to live for while himself had none of those.

Back out from the fade Isala had given the wardens a second chance of redemption. They could choose between helping the inquisition to stop Corypheus from destroying the world, or they could leave Orlais and Ferelden and never look back during this age. The wardens had taken the first choice. Teheron declared that after they were done with the inquisition they would all put themselves under his command, as Teheron was the commander of the grey and had the highest rank around.

On top of all this, Isala had to stop Cassandra from killing Anders who had been there, helping them fight the possessed wardens and all demons. Teheron promised Cassandra that both him and Anders were leaving, they had something they had to attend to in Wisehaupt. When Hawke woke back up from Fenris' blow, both him and the lyrium etched elf declared they would be going with Teheron and Anders on this grey warden business. Carver was still a grey warden and Hawke didn't abandon family, ever.

Cassandra begrudgingly agreed to let Anders go without punishment, but only because Hawke, Teheron and Isala all three made it perfectly clear they would fend for Anders if they had to and Isala pointed out that he was the one making judgement around Skyhold anyway and if he was to judge Anders he'd only judge him into Teheron's capable hands as a _grey warden business_.

Before Teheron left he informed Isala that Felix would be staying in Skyhold as a  _"A grey warden Ambassador."_ As he claimed _. "To report to me if there's trouble with the wardens."_ Teheron had a goofy grin on his face while informing him of that. Both of them knew that Felix wasn't needed for that task, but Isala was very thankful Felix got to stay with them anyway.

Dorian and Felix were good friends and were quite often found chatting and studying together, tossing magical theory between each other as only two Tevinter mages could. Dorian, who was subjected to a lot of hate from the people who wasn't in the closest circle in Skyhold, no matter how much Isala snapped at anyone who spoke about  _'the evil Tevinter magister'_ would do good with a friend from his homeland who could understand what it was like to be a foreigner.

The people of Skyhold had quite nasty words for Isala as well of course, being an elf from Tevinter and Seheron, he was called everything from savage to knife ear. Only no one dared to word those as loudly since Isala was the inquisitor. Also since Isala's love interests laid with a huge Qunari mercenary who was a head taller than most people.

The Iron Bull had made it perfectly clear even as far back as in Haven when someone had called Dalish knife ear, that he wouldn't tolerate that kind of talk. People had quickly realized that he would tolerate that even less when it came to his beloved inquisitor and no one really felt to meet the Qunari's blade or ax just to call the leader, the inquisitor knife ear.

The whole deal made him feel sick and pushed his minds into despair. Not the racial slur or harsh words, he had heard those things his entire life and was used to that. What made him feel sick was the whole leadership thing, making decisions, changing the world and history around him. Isala who wasn't used to lead, he didn't even like to lead, nor had he ever wanted the role of a leader. Still it had been forced on him and the alternative, Thedas put into ruins, wasn't an option he approved nor could let happen if he knew he could change it.

So instead he tried hard to occupy his minds elsewhere, just for a little while, to be able to cope with it all without running screaming back to Seheron. And what better place for a brilliant distraction than The Emerald graves? Sure he was still leading his little group. But it was more... him, excitedly dragging his friends around the forest for a camping trip than him leading them into grave troubles and battle as a leader.

And of course, Fairbanks had problems, but they were rather easily solved problems. The freemen were nothing more than glorified bandits and it didn't exactly take heavy battle to take them down. Between Isala, The Iron Bull, Dorian, Varric and Sera they managed to clean both freemen camps within the first day as well as save the people that had been taken by the freemen and locked into the veridium mine. 

By nightfall they used his old cave not far from the creek as campsite. They could of course have just used the inquisition main camps that was located all through the area, but Isala didn't want to have anything to do with the inquisition right now. He didn't want official requisitions orders, didn't want people to remind him of what he should be doing to pull in more favors all over Thedas. He just wanted to do what he felt for doing, killing bears, attacking freemen and bathe in the creek.

So, when they had established their camp Isala had done just that and taken a long bath in the creek, scrubbing himself clean from demon gore and blood as good as it got without any soap or oils. He made sure to tangle out the last of the few feathers that still remained in his hair, impressed over how long they had remained without being shook loose by how much fighting and moving around he did.

Varric had meanwhile worked on the meat of one of those blueish rams that Sera had put an arrow through, making it to a delicious smelling stew. When Isala came back, he pulled out the arrow tips he had carved from the bear bone from his last visit. He he still hadn't made them into real arrows yet and during the day, him and Sera had been collecting sticks that would become good arrow shafts.

To begin with, he made sure the shafts were straight and even. There was no idea to make an arrow that wasn't straight or it'd never hit it's target. Next the tips and last the feathers. When the entire arrow was finished he pulled out a vial of poison from an inner pocket and a bowl from his bag before he began coating the arrow tips with the poison. Sera then sat blowing at them to make them dry before putting them in her quiver.

"So Snapdragon, you make potions, poisons, food, that fog thing and now weapons with what's in your bag and in the nature around you." Varric said with amusement. "Did you just wake up one day and decided that the world was you workshop?" He asked while pulling up some of his parchments. Isala was impressed that after Adamant they were still actually intact.

Isala chuckled lightly. "To be honest? Yes. The same day I killed my old master. I was given a new perspective on things." He said and shrugged.

The truth was a bit more complex than that, but he didn't feel to share that story with them, at least not yet. He had shared it with Bull and that was enough of people knowing about what had happened to him, what he was. Well, Tenek, Orchid and his kith had known about him, but they weren't alive anymore to know the tale and he wasn't sure that counted anymore.

Bull had earned to know about him, the dragon, the Qunari. Bull had been ready to start a relationship with Isala, and Isala knew there wasn't really any relationships under the Qun. Tenek and Orchid had explained about the breeding programs for him before. Not that he had understood it more than 'Qunari don't do relationships'. Yet Bull was ready to commit with him, ready to have no one else that he took to his bedroom. Isala was no fool and he knew how high to value this small defiance against the Qun.

How that would work out for them after this whole adventure however, Isala didn't know. Would they both go back to Seheron and fight each other as a Qunari and a fog warrior? Would they stay here and remain what they were? To be honest Isala didn't know what would happen but he could see himself staying if Bull was willing to stay. He liked the chargers and he liked Bull. If he could simply join Bull and the chargers, he would be happy with that.

What he did know was that this was still into a far future and there was no idea to build up anxiety of something that yet wouldn't happen in a long time. First they would have to prevent Orlais from fall into chaos, find Corypheus and stop him from destroying the world. If they failed, well, then Isala would have other things to think about rather than his sex life. 

Isala put away the stray feathers from his arrow making before digging around in his bag trying to make some space in it. He needed to drop off the things he didn't use back at Skyhold or try to sell them somewhere. There was several blades and armors he had found in their travels that were in desperate need to be sold or given to Harritt for remaking. Or, alternatively, his bag needed another magical enlarger, but there was just so much that could be done for it.

"We should have brought Solas." He said mournfully as he dragged his fingers over the pocket with all different materials that could be put in his hair. With the feathers all out of his hair now (like every decoration to his hair after time of fighting, washing and running around) his hair felt empty. Bull chuckled lightly as he patted on the ground between his legs and Isala quickly shuffled over and slipped down in his lap without question. He liked to sit in Bull's lap.

"What you need help with little dragon?" Bull asked and Isala hummed as the Qunari's large hand stroke through his hair, he really did love that sensation.

"you know how to put things into dreadlocks?" He asked and craned his neck slightly to look up at his lovers face.

"Qunari, remember? We like dreadlocks, and braids, I even had them once." Isala tried to imagine Bull in dreadlocks, or hair, but failed miserably. Bull looked good the way he looked. "Now what did you want help with?" Bull asked with a little nudge to Isala's leg. 

"First chuckles now Tiny. Anyone else here who used to have dreadlocks?" Varric asked and chuckled lightly from the fire.

"Don't look at me, I will not have all that dirt in my hair." Dorian sniffed but smiled slightly where he sat leaned to a rock reaching for some of the meat Varric handed out.

Isala dug out the dragon teeth and shifted on Bull's lap. Each tooth had a thin silver thread wrapped around them for fastening into his hair. He handed them all to Bull who looked at him with silent surprise. Isala looked at him arching a brow then laughed lightly. "What did you think I kept these things for? Most small things I save will turn into some piece for my hair. Dragon teeth look better than bear claws." He said and nudged Bull's leg gently back.

Isala didn't know of the Qunari custom involving dragon teeth. He knew the language enough to speak it flowing, but he didn't know much Qunari custom. Him and Tenek had never been serious, they had been screwing sure, but it hadn't been because they wanted to spend the rest of their lives together. Well, Isala had planned on spending the rest of his life with Tenek, just as he had planned on spending it with Orchid, Septimus, Keelah and Rowena in Seheron's jungles, but that was in a different way.

"Whatever you say boss." Iasala remained puzzled over the strange look Bull was giving him. Not entirely sure if it was fond or sad. Maybe a bit of both. He'd ask Bull some other time when they were alone, or maybe ask Krem about it. His fellow vint might actually know why Bull reacted that way to teeth being braided into hair.

Bull's large fingers were as always surprisingly delicate as they worked in the dragon teeth into his dreadlocks. Isala never stopped amaze over how Bull could be so gentle even if he was so large, even if he was warrior, even if he had lost half of two fingers, even if Bull had the ability to fuck him senseless. If Bull wanted to be gentle, he would be very gentle.

When Bull was finished with his hair and they had eaten their dinner, it was bedtime. Being located where they were, they didn't actually need anyone to hold nightly guard so all of them could head to bed. Usually Isala would be sharing tent with Sera and Varric, but Isala had decided he wanted that to change. He already slept most of his nights in Skyhold with Bull and he had missed him the nights he didn't get to do that on their way to Adamant. 

Sleeping beside Bull was still a sensitive subject for Isala. Tents were more home for him than Skyhold's bedroom would ever be, taking Bull to his tent was a larger step than asking the Qunari to stay in his bedroom. At least it was for him. He sat quietly and laced his fingers with Bull's before finally glancing up at him after bailing out on asking at least six times already. 

"Share tent with me?" He asked carefully and quickly adverted his eyes again. 

Isala felt Bull lean his head against his hair. "Are you sure?" Came the reply. 

It made Isala smile. He was sure, because Bull made sure that Isala was comfortable with everything, no matter his own wishes. That made Isala certain. "Yes. Please share tent with me?" He asked and shuffled slightly, ducking his head away from Bull and looked back up at him with a hopeful smile. 

"Lead the way Kadan."

 


	30. 30: Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jealousy and smut. Bull just can't help it and Isala just can't help it either, what a pair!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry (late) Christmas and a happy new year everyone!

**9:41 Dragon -The Emerald graves-**

The moment they were settled into the tent, Isala pushed Bull back to the bedroll laying on the floor, straddling his hips and rested nimble clever hands on Bull's chest. It gave a fine view for Bull, a nice imagination of how it would look to have the elf bouncing up and down on his cock while the easy fall of those black dreadlocks would make the dragon teeth rattle together.

Bull reached for the pillows they had and stacked them comfortably under his own head to keep his horns from smacking to anything if he needed to tilt his head for a better view. He smiled contently as Isala began drawing invisible pattern over his chest, something that only the elf could see. But Bull could feel them, not what they were per say, but he could feel the comfort of those clever fingers stroking the bare skin of his chest.

He placed his own firm hands over slender elven hips, stroking his thumbs in gently under the red velvety tunic to touch that dark soft skin underneath his rough fingers. It was always nice to have the elf above him, always nice to think of those fun things they could do with the elf above him. Though right now it was crystal clear that something was on the inquisitor's mind other than some really good sex.

Bull had gotten better at reading his difficult elf, even if it at times that was still difficult. He suspected that Isala wasn't actually easier to read but rather that Isala was more freely giving Bull more emotions to actually read up on while they were alone together. He hoped that was a sign that the elf was getting more comfortable around him, but as always, he wasn't entirely sure, Isala was too good at keeping his face in those emotions he wanted for his own good, one of these days it would get the guy hurt.

"What's on your mind Kadan?" Bull asked calmly.

He stroke his finger gently over the side of Isala's red velvet tunic instead of thumbing in under it. The guy didn't need sex right now, the guy needed to talk and Bull was always ready to listen. Isala's leather coat had already been tossed to a corner of the tent along with his dragon bone greaves and vembraces. As far as Bull knew Harritt and Dagna were both working on making a breastplate of dragon bone as well for the inquisitor, along with hard leather pants and a new coat by the hide of the abyssal highdragon they had found in the western approach.

Bull still wasn't entirely sure what to think of his little dragon dressed up in the parts of other larger dragons. Mostly it was hot, thinking about his elf like a dragon was entirely hot and did everything to get him hard. Even if the whole deal with the dragon teeth had thrown him off balance for a moment before he had remembered the elf might speak the language but didn't seem to know more about the Qun than the military parts of it. 

"I... well, memories." The elf replied with a deep sigh as nimble fingers played with the buckle to his harness. "You aren't the first large horned warrior I've had under me in a tent. Just uh... the first I didn't mind staying all night." Isala kept a very intense interest on the buckle as he worked it open slowly.

"Oh?"

Bull looked up at the elf curiously. He knew how long time it had taken for the elf to want him to stay all night in his bed, knew Isala didn't share tent with anyone but Sera or Varric. The two people Isala had quickly developed family-like relationships with. He knew that the elf napped on just about anyone he trusted in Skyhold and the fact that he could be found lazing around with his head popped into someone's lap was another thing entirely. The problem appeared when it came to actual sleeping. Then the elf backed off. 

However this statement was interesting for another reason, by Isala's first reaction to Bull at the Storm Coast, Bull had been rather certain that Isala had only bad memories of his race. After the fall of Haven and the realization that the elf had indeed been a subject to the Ben-Hassrath re-educators unwillingly, that belief had been even stronger. Although the way the elf had been able to take all of his cock the first time in bed had given him suspicions on what the lithe elf had had managed to fit up his ass before. With other races, usually it would take a couple of rounds before Bull could get all the way in into his partners.

He gently reached up and stroke his hand through Isala's dreads to make them flow down over one shoulder. The dragon teeth gleamed slightly in the light of the lantern that hung over them. Admittedly, the teeth looked good in his hair. then put his hands back on the elf's hips, stroking his thumbs in under the tunic again gently. Since Isala was the one unbuckling his harness he realized this might be a problem best fucked out of the elf's system.

"Tenek, he was err... well he was part of the Qun once. His twin sister, Orchid was a mage. Anyway Tenek was assigned viddasala since he had kept her magic secret for two years from the tamassrans as well as kept her from hurting anyone using it in that time. They were parted though, when they found out she was a mage. He found her years later in a battlefield where her antaam had been killed, they left the Qun together, found Keelah, our fog dancer, then both turned fog warriors."

Bull wondered about the full of that tale. A viddasala was basically a Ben-Hassrath arvaarad that kept saarebas on place but also had a gift of being shady. What he knew was that no Viddasala would ever trust a free mage, sister or no. Bull almost found he had met this man to find out what changed his views so drastically. Then again, it wasn't often that Qunari found that they had siblings either, must have been twins. 

"They were the ones dragging me out from Par Vollen, took me in brought me back, taught me just about everything of survival. Tenek he... well, he taught me that sex was supposed to be fun and not painful. Ironic because you people are very large..." 

Okay so maybe Bull didn't want to meet this guy. That was a possessive fight he didn't want to have over the elf, or maybe he just didn't want to loose it. In the end it would have been Isala's choice he supposed. If it would have ever come down to a choice between the two. Usually Bull wouldn't have minded sharing with a third party, but Isala was... special. A little chuckle came from the elf and Bull looked up, finding the elf's hands on his own where they were gripping a bit tightly to elven hips. 

"Bull, are you jealous?" The elf asked and grinned, way too smug for his own good.

Bull huffed at the elf and reached around to pinched his ass. "Enough to want to pin you down and show just how much you belong with me and no one else." Bull growled and sat up pulling the black haired elf close, nibbling his neck and shoulder. Had they been in another position he'd have given a proper tug in the golden ring that was still adorning Isala's nipple, but as it was He was a bit too tall for that, or Isala too short. 

Isala laughed and shuffled around in his arms before Bull could find his lips and devour him in a deep kiss. Isala quick as always allowed Bull's tongue into his own mouth and Bull could taste the sweet taste that was Isala's mouth. Bull shuffled them around again to trap his elf under him. Isala gave up a giggling under him while those wicked nimble fingers were stroking over his chest again and pushed off his harness down over his arm and Bull easily disposed of it. 

"Oh is that so? Will you fuck me silly and make me forget all others that has been inside me before?" The elf purred sinfully. "Or will I lie here and think about another Horned warrio-"

Bull flipped the elf around to his stomach and bit his shoulder with his pointed teeth. That of course only made the elf giggle out a moan as he wiggled his ass inviting. Fuck how Bull wanted it. "Watch it Kadan or you will have a hard time walking straight in the morning." Bull growled by the pointed ear before nibbling it playfully. 

Isala hissed under him, letting off a little growl when Bull nibbled his ear. Bull had noticed with delight long ago how sensitive elf ears were and he absolutely loved to torture his lover by nibbling on his. He pinned Isala between himself and the bedroll, gave a little roll of his hips and bit down in the tanned shoulder again to make a mark this time. "Ah.. fuck! Bull please." Isala moaned under him. 

"Shh, or the others will hear you Kadan." Bull scolded. The elf whimpered and let his head thump down against the stack of pillows where he gave out a loud but very muffled moan. "Good, Ataashi, now keep quiet before we wake the others or will I have to gag you?" He asked, making sure his voice was low and husky, just by that pointed ear again.  

"Ah! You... You'd do that?" The elf asked and swallowed.

When Isala craned his neck Bull saw the glimmer of nervous excitement in the elf's eyes. So, the gag wasn't off the table. Good to know. But tonight wasn't the night for trying out new things like that. He would try that one out in an environment where he was sure to catch all hints of actual distress or discomfort, not while they were in a badly lit tent by a cave in the forest. 

"Back in Skyhold." He promised instead. "Now help me get you Naked."

With Isala eagerly helping, undressing wasn't very much of a problem. Bull very soon had his oiled up fingers teasingly circling the elf's hole while he was nipping on pointed ears and the long expanse of skin that was his lovers neck as Isala was squirming underneath his fingers.

The elf was making the sexiest little whines and growls and Bull really couldn't explain in enough words just what the sounds coming from the elf did to him. Other than saying they were fucking hot and he'd probably never find anyone else in the world that'd be making them for him other than this very particular elf. Unless he gave in on trying to actually fuck a dragon, and that wouldn't end well for anyone. 

He dipped the tip of his index finger in and the elf gasped but quickly turned it to a whine. That was another thing Bull loved, the elf was so impatient, always wanted more, which in turn made it horribly easy to tease him like this. Bull rather enjoyed to tease him too, the more he teased the more growling and snarling would come from his elven lover. 

He noticed the elf trying to sneak his own hand down on himself. Bull easily eased his own finger back out, quickly taking both of the elf's hands and grabbed for the first best thing to tie him up with. Finding one of Isala's belt's he strapped the elf's hands together behind his back where he laid on his stomach to the bedroll.

"No touching Ataashi." He said and kissed his neck again.

In reply he only got an unhappy whining and the sound of leather being tugged in as the elf tried to break free from the belt that held him. After making sure the belt wasn't too constricting Bull planted another kiss on his elf's back before kissing down over the spine to the tanned ass that was still tilted up in an inviting angle.

He chuckled lightly as he noted that Isala was trying to get a good view but however he angled and shook his head the jet black dreadlocks continued to fall into his face and blocking the view. Bull patiently did nothing more than lazy kisses to that perfect ass until he heard the elf's last huff of frustration and defeat as he gave up on trying to see what was going on. 

"Good boy." Bull purred and bit down on his ass. Isala moaned muffled to the pillow in reply.

Bull nudged Isala's knees apart and spread his cheeks to reveal his hole before dragging his tongue from the balls up over the crack, just teasingly giving a swirl by his entrance but not pushing in. He wanted to see how long it would take before Isala began begging for it, or in this particular case, growling for it. 

The answer to that... barely a minute. Then the elf began to play dirty back with dragon like growls and snarls, the ones that Bull was particularly weak for. Isala had one or two growls that went down deep in his chest, sounding like if he was about to start spit fire at any moment. Bull didn't admit it out loud but those sounds would be the thing that made him loose control if there ever was anything.

He delved his tongue deep into the heat of his elf's tight passage and delighted over the desperate sounds he wrung out of Isala, even if they were muffled into the pillow he had pressed his face into. Bull nearly wished he'd be able to reach those black dreadlocks to jerk his head back up, to muffle those sounds was nearby criminal. But they should probably try to keep at least slightly silent on behalf of the others they were sharing camp with. 

The elf squeaked loudly when Bull found just the spot and nearly fell to his stomach as his knees gave out under him. Luckily Bull had become very good at noticing whenever the elf's legs turned into pudding and had already put one hand safely on the elf's hip to keep him upright while leaning himself to the other arm's elbow. 

After some finger play, licking, sucking, nibbling and stretching and bull was certain his elf could take more, he moved them around again so he was laying on his back where Isala had just been. He manhandled the elf until the black haired beauty perched over his hips facing away from him while Bull held his steady hand tightly on the belt that still kept Isala's hands tied behind his back. 

The other hand was holding steady to Isala's hip to keep him from impaling himself down on his cock just yet. He grinned when he saw the elf shiver and wriggle backwards slightly until Bull felt the elf's ass against his cock, inviting heat, ready to take him in. But Bull kept them parted, just for a little while longer, he wasn't quite done with the teasing even if the air around them was practically shivering by the scent of a dragon in need. 

"Please?" Isala whimpered turning his head to look back at Bull with those wide yellow eyes. "Please, please, please Bull, I need you." He whined begging. 

Bull smiled and lifted the hand with the belt slightly making the elf angle up his back bound arms slightly to follow the movements. Bull wondered how the elf would look entirely tied down, quickly put it on his mental list of things he wanted to do later along with the gag. Maybe it really was time to introduce the elf to the bag of toys he owned and see what the elf was into. 

"Please what kadan?" Bull asked and put the end of the belt between his teeth to keep a strain on his arms and still have both hands on Isala's hips.

Even if  Isala hadn't answered yet he lined himself up with the elf but made sure to hold on tight so the elf couldn't press himself down. Not that Isala didn't give it a good try tough. The elf was stronger than he looked and Bull had to focus for the elf not to drop down. That was the hard thing about rouges, they never did what was expected from them, always pulled one way when indicating they were to pull another way.

"Please let me sit on your cock Bull!" Isala whined "please I want you to fuck me until I see stars." The elf gasped trying hard to come down on his cock. 

The next time would definitely have ropes involved. Maybe he'd tie him to the bed again, or over the desk, he liked the thought of Isala bent over that desk, it saw far too much work and way too little fun anyway and Bull had seen a promising way to add a rope into the desk. 

While he was lost in thought about ropes and desks he missed a particularly slippery move and Isala managed to slip out of his grasp. He gasped and the elf yelped loudly before tensing entirely as the elf slid all the way down all at once at his cock. Bull drew his own ragged breath before dropping the belt from his mouth to let the elf's hands fall slack down behind his back. 

Bull had prepared him thoroughly yes, but it was still tight, hot and tense to sink into him like that. Without a doubt it must have hurt like hell too. He quickly grabbed Isala's sides to get the elf back up from his cock but Isala hissed at him. The threatening kind of hiss that was a clear indicator for Bull not to do anything what so ever or heads would roll. So, instead, Bull held entirely still with his hands carefully on his lovers side. 

"Kadan? Come on big guy, I'll help you back up." He said, slowly fumbling with the belt to the elf's wrists to free him. 

"Don't you dare." Bull heard the hoarse reply. "Fuck... stop... moving. I just have to..."

Isala was taking deep breaths and Bull held entirely still, watching the elf's tense back, head lolled forwards and breath ragged. Slowly there was relaxation in the muscles and Bull slowly reached up and very carefully began massaging the elf's sides and hips. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to be impressed or horrified that the elf wasn't making more of a fuzz out of this. 

"Little longer down... slightly to the left." Isala hummed.

Bull sighed of relief because there was the pleasure in his voice again. He easily obliged the command, continued to massage where he had been asked and felt the tightness surrounding his cock slowly ease up just slightly more, heard the labored breath become deep controlled breaths. Then there was a small roll from the elf's hips and a content happy sigh.

Bull would most likely never get used to how unpredictable this elf was. Anyone else and this pretty much had been the end of their nightly fun and pleasure if not the permanent end of their fun and pleasure. But the little dragon elf was soon bouncing over his cock with moans and growls of pleasure and Bull couldn't do other than push the terror he had felt away and enjoy the ride, or being ridden, he wasn't sure both sounded good. 

Bull grabbed a hold of the belt again, tugging slightly in it, making sure the noises were of pleasure and not pain before using the hand on Isala's hip to help push the elf up and down while watching every flinch and twitch of the muscles working in the elf's back. Watched his own cock slide in and out of that tanned ass... and fuck if that wasn't the hottest thing he'd seen lately. 

He soon stopped helping and instead reached around his elf and began stroking Isala's hard leaking cock. The relative silence they had managed to keep this far was broken when Isala came with a loud cry mixed with that loud dragonlike growl he loved. He himself managed to keep it silent enough just to be a muffled groan before Isala slumped back down against him in a tangle of limbs and belt which Bull helped to get Isala loose from before pulling him close over his chest.

He pulled up a rag from his packing and gently cleaned them both up before pulling the blankets up over them both stroking through the black dreadlocks while kissing lazily where he could reach.

"Mhmm. Less jealous now?" He heard the elf purr. "Because if that's you when you're jealous... I might just have to find ways to make you jealous again." 

"You're awful Kadan." Bull said and chuckled.

"You love it." 

And fuck, he really did.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you see this is now part of a series. I will make several mini chapters/one shots with these two. The things that didn't make it into this fic.
> 
> I was also thinking about taking prompts/ideas if anyone want anything special with these two idiots. Like modern AUs or just random things you want more off. Just leave me a comment and I'll see what I can do :)


	31. 31: Elves cannot fly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isala can't fly. Not that he hasn't tried it, one never knows until trying.

**9:34 Dragon -Seheron-**

Isala laid lazily splayed out on a branch high up over the ground. He had found the tallest tree in the immediate area and climbed up to the greenery of said tree then made himself comfortable. One of his legs was lazily dangling down from the branch and his hands were resting under his head to prop it up. The bark was rasping against his bare back, for him, a comfort, a feeling of freedom. A regular person might fear the possibility of falling and breaking his neck but not Isala. Not with the dragon in his head who missed heights more than anything else.

The others had made camp under his tree and he could hear the laughing and chatting. He could hear Keelah tell her wonderful tales of their people, smell the smell of Orchid's cooking and hear the sound of Tenek as he was sharpening his sword. The smell of food was enough to poke his interest of returning down to the ground, however just not quite yet, soon but not yet. The dragon wasn't ready, they had only been up there for an hour maybe two, not enough to satisfy the dragon's feeling of homesickness that could only be sated with heights and fire. 

If he tilted his head slightly to the left he could see the blue of the nearly clear sky, see the bird that was taunting him by being just out of reach for his hands, tweeting cheerfully. He could throw a knife at it he supposed, but that would mean having to move and he didn't feel for moving, lazy suited him just fine where he now laid.

Instead he glanced up at a lonely cloud on the sky. It looked soft, like cotton maybe, he wondered if it would be solid or not if he could ever touch it.  **"They are like running though an easy rain in the summer."** The dragon informed inside his head. Isala hummed content as he watched the little cloud.  _"Are they solid?"_ He wondered curiously.  **"Not unlike thick mist."** Isala looked up at the cloud and sighed. He wanted to feel that. He wanted to touch the clouds just like the dragon had touched them before it got stuck inside Isala's head. 

The dragon kept telling him of the wonders of flying, kept explaining how different the air felt depending on what weather it was around him. The dragon allowed Isala to tap in on the memories of flying. High up in the sky of a a desert, keeping low in snowy lands and twirling through clouds while small gentle water drips formed on the membrane of long dark wings. He saw the thrill in standing of the edge of a cliff before diving out of it.

Before he knew what happened he was standing up on the branch and took a leap out over the edge. The air rushed around him and for a couple of moments the dragon delighted over the feeling as did Isala himself. But very soon, mortification struck him and he let out a scream. How much a dragon yet could fly, elves could not and this was bound to be a very painful memory if he survived it.

"Ataashi!" Tenek cried out somewhere below him.

Isala shut his eyes hard and held his hands out to catch anything to slow the fall. The first hit took to his side painfully by a branch. He didn't really have time to reflect over the painful snap from his side that must come from one of his ribs. Then another hard smack, slowing his fall but breaking yet another rib before he smacked into the ground with a loud cry of pain, arm snapping under his own weight.

He curled up on himself and gasped for air, trying hard to protect his chest and the arm that was in an odd angle, from nothing in particular. It was a habit from his life in slavery, getting hurt was something that masters could use to pain him further for having got hurt in the first place. He heard curses before someone tried to shift him around but he cried out curling up tighter mumbling apologizes. 

"Isala!" Keelah's voice cut through the haze of pain that felt like it was devouring him entirely.

Keelah wasn't in Tevinter, he wasn't in Tevinter. He wasn't going to get punished for falling out of a tree. Fuck, jumping out of a tree, that was one of the more stupid things he'd done in his life. He slowly opened his eyes and cried out loudly when he was gently shifted to his back by large hands. A long braid and horns gleaming with their golden adornments, lips with scars from stitches. Orchid. 

Orchid was the one of the three he knew best of the little group that had taken him in. She was safe even if she was a mage, maybe especially since she was a saarebas. The scars around her lips was telling the tale about how she'd never voluntarily would walk back to the Qun, thus she'd never bring him back to there either. And neither Orchid, Keelah nor Tenek would take him back to Tevinter, he was safe with them.

He slowly relaxed out of the curling position he had kept himself in. He even helped when she shifted him up into her lap as best as he could while making quiet pained noises. The dragon was apologetically quiet in the back of his minds, knowing it was because of said dragon that Isala was now injured. A soft blue glow was slowly wandering over his body, washing healing magic into his body, Isala slowly felt his body begin to relax as the broken bone in his arm began knitting back together.

"Ataashi what happened?" Orchid asked gently to his ear while moving her healing on to his naked chest to focus on the ribs. 

"I wanted to fly... it... told me about the clouds I wanted to..." He sighed and looked down in the ground curling up slightly again.

"Elves cannot fly Ataashi." She said with something akin to motherly love.

She spoke calmly and her free hand found his, lacing their fingers. Isala quickly took comfort in it and gave a weak little nod. It had been a year... well, it had been a year since he had been saved from the Qunari, three since he had killed his master and it was still hard to know what was what sometimes. It could come and go within seconds when he thought he was still in Tevinter and when he knew he was free.

"I'm sorry." He said quietly. Knowing his ears were drooping. 

"Don't be. Now you have tried it." She said gently and hugged him close. "Don't do it again, you got us scared." She said with a little laugh.

Isala just sighed and curled up in her lap like if he was a child. The thing was, they never minded when he curled up to them, Orchid and Tenek would just hold him close when he curled up in their laps, they always let him stay until he felt safe again, no matter if it took hours or just minutes. Keelah would just sit and hug him while telling incredible stories making him forget about all other things for a while.

They already knew that he was healing from his past, they were there to help him through it. They taught him how to survive in the wilds, taught him how to be a person, taught him how to live again. They let him be part of their family and in return he helped them fight in the fogs, by listening to them when they talked, to take in what they taught and by being their family back. It was a slow process but they were patient with him.

It was a comfort he never knew he'd desired until he met them all, but something he didn't ever want to live without again.

* * *

**9:41 Dragon -The Emerald Graves-**

The last day of their stay in  the Emerald graves they ventured into dragon territory. Quite by accident to be perfectly honest. Isala however perked up the exact moment he could smell it, sniffing the air eagerly like a dog who could smell a big stake. He made a sudden halt looking around trying to figure from what direction it came. Just as Varric opened his mouth to ask why they were stopping a roar cut through the sky and Bull laughed loudly. 

"Oh boss you're the best! Please tell me we're killing that?" Bull bellowed with a huge grin matching Isala's own. 

Isala squeaked excitedly with an eager nod before he dashed towards the sound without hesitation. Bull joining close behind, Sera laughing maniacally as she ran with them, already holding an arrow ready. Dorian and Varric was not at all as thrilled over taking down a high dragon with just one warrior, three rouges and one mage in the group. Especially since two of said rouges worked with long distant weapons, which meant that Isala and Bull were the only two people who would be able to get to the dragons soft spots up close.

However there was no time for argue of the situation as frost blast came down on them when Isala rushed out in a clearing. The dragon screeched a loud furious roar over having trespassers in her territory. Isala made a loud half growl and half screech right back, pulling all attention from the furious dragon. The frost dragon snapped and clawed after the elven inquisitor who dodged back and forth here and there. Using his shadow cloaks and quick steps to seem to be all over the place while thrilling over the fight against the other dragon.

Some into the hard fight Sera passed out, hit too many times by the frosty breath and a final a wide sweep of tail had knocked her out. The same sweep of tail threw Bull back to the ground, his sword flew in an arch landing deep in the ground with the pointy end down. Isala growled viciously seeing the two go down and darted forwards, grabbed Bull's sword while running and leaped at the dragon, managing to get up on it's back before crawling forwards, grabbing by one of the horns to cling to while the dragon thrashed around to get him off.

For a while he had to fight to keep on place while the dragon violently shook and jerked it's head back and forth. Clinging to the horn with one hand and Bull's sword with the other before he was tossed up into the air. He quickly twisted his body around and angled the sword underneath him and jammed it straight through the dragon's head while it breathed out a large amount of frost towards the others. 

The dragon roared it's very last roar and Isala screamed straight back over the amount of force he had to put behind the blow as the sword dug through the scales muscles and bone. The dragon soon fell forwards and Isala held so hard to the pommel of Bull's sword his knuckles whitened. Needed to hold on until the dragon was down or he'd risk getting squished under the massive dragon body.

Bull had managed to pulled himself up from the ground in time to see his elf twist in the air and jam Bull's own large great sword straight through the dragon's head, and damn if this wasn't the sexiest thing Bull had seen in a damn long while. His elf, his sword and a dying dragon making that last roar of defeat, hearing Isala match it with a scream of his own but one of triumph rather than defeat.

As the dragon went down the elf remained on her head standing with a huge grin, still holding to the pommel of the sword that was lodged into the dragon scull. It was probably no idea of getting the blade back, the ice in that last blast must have ruined it from inside it's own head. Well, Bull could think of a lot worse ways to loose his weapon on, besides, Isala's backpack was full of goodies the elf had collected on their little trip, he'd just grab one of those.

"That! Was fucking hot!" Bull called out loudly, which made Isala snort in amusement.

"Taarsidath-an halsaam?" Isala said in questioning tease.

"Mhmm you bet, Ataashi." Bull said grinning up at his dragon elf. 

Isala laughed and slipped down from the dragons head straight into Bull's arms and got a big kiss. It always felt silly when Bull held him up from the ground since he couldn't even reach the ground with the tips of his toes. He loved it though, how silly he felt, he liked how tall and strong Bull was as he held him up like this. He wrapped his legs around Bull's hips and arms behind Bull's neck, as if he meant for Bull to pick him up while sliding down the dragon's head.

"Do I even want to know what that mean?" Varric asked with a laugh as he was helping Sera to get up from the ground. "I know Tiny always shouts that during dragon fights though." The dwarf said with suspicion. It was no secret Bull liked dragon fights a bit too much. 

"Probably not." Isala said with a laugh before kissing Bull's cheek unwrapping himself as a sign to be let down.

"Well, the direct translation would be something like... I will bring myself sexual pleasure later, while thinking of this with great respect." Bull grunted and buckled his hips playfully against Isala with a grin then he let Isala down to the ground again.

Isala chuckled lightly as he flickered out his knife and set to his usual work on the teeth. He let the others chat about Bull's words on their own, he rather thought it was hot when Bull shouted that, always made him interested in when _'later'_ would come. Well, to be perfectly honest Isala had to admit Qunlat was a rather hot language when it was coming from Bull, especially when the Qunari was saying dirty things to him then preformed them.

He really hoped  _'later'_ would come soon.


	32. Qunari training exercise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isala doesn't strictly approve of the Qunari way for handling things and he's determined to help Bull in his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry about this hiatus. I've written and rewritten these chapters, played with new characters, changed concepts and makers breath, it's been a mess! 
> 
> GOOD NEWS THO! I have a direction here again! The chapters will be a bit shorter but they will most likely be coming a lot more often now :) Hope you still enjoy if you read this!
> 
> Next up: Bull's personal quest!

**9:41 Dragon -Skyhold-**

"Again!"

Isala was drawn to the sound of something solid hitting either a training dummy or a person. His Qunari growling 'again' over and over again told him that it wasn't a training dummy but someone hitting Bull. It wasn't as if he was worried, he was simply curious on weather this was what he thought it was.

"This is why the Qun don't like women fighting! Should have asked Cullen instead." Bull growled out.

When Isala got there he found out that it was Cassandra who was doing the hitting, not very surprisingly to be honest, that woman had a very mean swing. Isala smiled slightly and leaned against the stone wall, watching them. He had lived long enough with Tenek to have done this dance more than once with the ex-viddasala. 

It was a Qunari thing, instead of dealing with the shit that scared them, they beat it out of their systems with a stick and called it even. Orchid always rolled her eyes when Tenek asked any of them to hit him with the stick. Since she had been Saarebas no one had hit her with a stick when she'd got scared and she didn't understand the way Tenek needed it.

Cassandra however frowned over being insulted like that and did exactly what Bull had wanted her to, smacking him so hard with the stick so he lost his balance and ended up with his ass to the ground. Isala laughed and clapped his hands. "Nice work Cassandra!" He said as he walked over to them with a grin. "Did he misbehave?" He asked playfully.

Cassandra looked slightly amused then shook her head and held the stick over to him. "Perhaps you should take over." She said before leaving, most likely to read more of Varric's romance novels. She of course would deny reading them, but Isala had excellent sight and could easily see the front of her book whenever she sat half hidden away, reading. 

Isala leaned to the stick he had been given and watched with a smile on his face as Bull pulled himself back up to his feet. Bull grunted and rubbed the spot he'd been hit then looked at Isala with a grin "You gonna hit on me Kadan?" The horned warrior asked with a playful tease as he took a pose ready to be hit again by the stick.

"I am beating the fear out of you aren't I?" He asked and pulled the stick up in a ready pose. 

"Qunari training exercise." Bull agreed. "S'been a while since I needed it, though... that demon was.... big."

"Fair enough." Isala said and nodded then stood in a ready stance. "You do realize that this is just a way not to have to think of the actual problem right?" He asked as he swung the stick in a trying arch without hitting Bull. Not until he had heard Bull's answer. 

"What? Just hit me with the stick kadan?" Bull sighed.

Isala obliged and swung the stick quickly smacking it against Bull's chest before the Qunari had time enough to prepare much against it. But he wasn't about to let the subject go yet. The Qun had a very odd way of dealing with things. Or rather, they had a very easy way of NOT dealing with things. Instead of thinking it through and sorting it out, they pushed it forwards until they broke and had to be sent to the re-educators. 

"You're scared of demons Bull, because they can possess people. And Qunari, you people are scared of going wild, that's why you don't like the vashoth." He said and weighted the stick in his hands looking at Bull.

"You'd think I'd got over the superstition from back home. I don't care about mages. Living so long out here most  Qunari would say I've already lost my mind and I know that's not true. At least... I'm pretty sue that's... well shit that's probably what it-" 

Isala hit him with the stick again before dropping it and took a step closer reaching up and grabbed his horns to pull him down in a deep kiss that reflexively made his eyes fall shut. He always loved the feel of Bull's horn under his fingers, knowing he could just inch his fingers slightly to the left and he'd make Bull into a horny mess.

He didn't pull back from the kiss until Bull's hands were safely planted on his hips and he knew he had all attention. Then he let his hands slip down to rest on Bull's cheeks, fingertips touching against the pointed ears, that hot stubble under his palms.

"You haven't lost your mind Bull. You are a very hot Qunari who'm I happen to have a thing for. You are the most reasonable, collected man I have ever had the pleasure to get to know." He said calmly and smiled. "Now, if you want to, I'll hit you again so you can scream some more at the fade, then you are taking me to my bedroom and make me scream in return. Deal? I'll even growl at you."

Bull sighed but then smiled and stole another kiss with a little chuckle. "Mhmm, Ataashi... This is why you are my kadan." Bull mumbled against his lips. "Yes hit me with the stick again, then I'll make you and  your dragon into a puddle." 

Isala laughed lightly as he backed off grabbing the stick again to continue hitting his lover with it. He hadn't spelled it out straight yet but... kadan, that was a word he was slowly beginning to associate with no one else but The Iron Bull.

 


	33. How can you expect me to do this?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Qun want an alliance. Isala does not respond well to this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy noodle! 200 kudos! Guyyyyys! *blushes and hugs close*

**9:41 Dragon -Skyhold-**

It was a few days after hitting on his handsome Qunari (with a stick) and Isala had been spending the latest twenty minutes watching Bull and Krem go at it with shield bashes. The way Bull's muscles worked and the sheen layer of sweat made the man glisten... Isala really couldn't help himself, nor did he want to because that was hot.

Isala had planned to go speak to Sera to begin with, but the view of Bull's backside was enough to stop him mid track. Krem didn't look bad either, but humans really wasn't Isala's interest, Qunari and other elves, those he had a sexual interest in. Perhaps it was the ears, because dwarves never really tugged his interest either, he could appreciate both humans and dwarves to be handsome but he didn't ever get interested in them at an sexual level. 

"Ah! Come on Krem! I'm working my ass of to get you to see that move!" Bull growled and pulled Isala out of his thoughts that had spiraled down to very dirty areas.

It was clear that something was up or Bull wouldn't have snapped like that at Krem for something as easy as shield bashes, especially since Krem was keeping up good with thought of his huge opponent. Isala sighed as he took one last lingering look at Bull's muscled body before he pushed off from the wall and began walking over, just in time to hear Krem inform Bull that he had plenty of ass left.

"I certainly hope so, I'm not done with his ass." Isala said as he walked over with a cheeky grin and a little tilt of his head to get a better look at said ass. 

It was easier to diffuse tense moments with a bit of humor. At least when it came to people he were comfortable around, Krem snorted amused him and winked playfully. "Your worship, I've left plenty of ass for you on him." He said playfully and Isala scrunched his nose. 

"Call me your worship again and I will tell the pretty bard in the Tavern that you're checking her out." He warned. Not that he would unless he felt that Krem would never take things in his own hands. "Anyway. What's wrong?" That question he turned to Bull as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Krem blushed slightly over being called out on his crush, but the slight curl of his lips told Isala that he hadn't taken offence. Bull however turned to him, tension returning in full force as the Qunari lowered his shield.

"Glad you came by. I got a letter from my contacts in the Ben-Hassrath. Already verified it with Red." 

Isala tensed up all at once as well and took a defensive stance, he did't do it on purpose, it was a pure reflex. The dragon inside him that had been peacefully slumbering woke back up with a twitch, ready for attack as if the Qunari was attacking Skyhold right this instance.

Bull clearly already knew that would be the reaction by the look on his face and Isala huffed in annoyance. He didn't like the Qunari, didn't trust the Qunari and didn't want to have anything to do with the stupid fucking Qunari, other than having Bull in his bedroom. But Bull was barely Qunari any longer, he didn't know it himself yet and Isala wasn't about to tell him, but the elf could see it. 

"And what do they say?" He asked, monotone as a tranquil while blocking out every coiling raging emotion that wanted to manifest in his face, a plain sheet of paper, taught to him during his years in slavery. 

He saw Bull wince and knew it was because of himself shutting off. He had tried opening up around Bull lately, had tried let Bull see all emotions but he couldn't right now. Not when it came to the Qunari and the Ben-Hassrath, not now, at least not with Krem right there. In his world he wasn't even certain who was the worst, the Vints or the Qunari. 

"The Ben-Hassrath has been reading my reports. They don't like Corypheus or his Venatori. And they  _really_ don't like red lyrium. They're ready to work with us. With you boss. The Qunari and the Inquisition joining forces." 

It was so clear that Bull wanted to try this, wanted to see what would come out of an alliance like this, but Isala couldn't feel excitement over it. Accepting an alliance would be betraying his own kin, accepting to work with the Qun would work against anything he stood for, it would be like slapping Orchid and Tenek in the face and spit at their memory. They hadn't rescued him for him to join forces with the Qunari.

"And why would I be interested?" He asked as empty as before as he looked at Bull. 

"My people never made a full blown alliance with a foreign power before. This would be a big step." Bull turned back to face Krem for another shield bash. "They've found a massive red lyrium shipping operation an the coast." 

"They want us to hit it together, talking about bringing in one of their dreadnoughts. Always wanted to see one of those big war ships in action." Krem said just before taking a far too aggressive hit from Bull and fell over on his ass. 

"Did you see that? Go get some water." Bull said dismissive. 

Krem got back up on his feet before putting his shield down and quickly headed off, not saying no to a break from being bashed down by Bull no matter what he tried in return. Isala still stood with his arms crossed and his emotionless mask just silently staring at Bull for any reason as to why they should even consider this. 

He couldn't believe Bull actually wanted him to do this. Creating an alliance with the people he had fought for so many years, the people who had broken down his minds so hard he'd be a drooling vegetable if it hadn't been for the dragon.

The Qunari was just another form of slavery and they didn't even realize it themselves. For all Bull said about the Qunari being as free as they choose it wasn't true, it would never be true with their system. They had roles and if you didn't like that role you got brain washed into liking another role, if that didn't work they took your mind entirely and put you into work anyway. People were not people in the Qun, they were tools.

"Boss..." Bull had taken a step towards him. 

Isala backed quickly and let his mask fall. "I'm a fog warrior Bull!" He snapped, hating how betrayed his voice sounded. "I fight for a free Seheron. How can I make an alliance with the Qunari when they stand for everything I don't believe in? How can I fight for them when I know that they would put me into one of those dark hell pits and mash my head with Saar-Quamec until I couldn't even remember my own name!" He was almost shouting by now.

"Isala..." Bull said slowly taking another step, but Isala just backed again. 

"If I accept this I will betray my people! I would..." His voice broke and his eyes fell to look at the ground instead, breathing was getting hard and his chest ached.

"Kadan." Bull said before stepping closer a last step, Isala didn't move, his body had just stopped working and he barely even felt Bull put his hands on his shoulders. "This isn't about Seheron. They  won't ask you to send help to fight there. This might be a chance for things to... change." Bull cupped his cheeks and tilted his head up to look at the Qunari. "I wouldn't let them take you." 

"And if it isn't?" He asked quietly. "If they ask me something I can't deliver..?" 

"Then you break it off." 

"They'll tell you to go back." He whispered silently and grabbed for Bull's wrist tightly, the lump in his throat threatened to suffocate him. "They'll order you to go back and you'll leave because the Qun demanded it." He whispered as his eyes stung by tears. 

It hurt. It hurt so much more than he'd think it ever hurt to imagine Bull not being there with him. Thinking about Bull going back to Par Vollen and leave him behind when Isala couldn't follow. It hurt to think that one day they'd might meet and be on the opposite side of a war that would put them against each other face to face and he'd have to kill or be killed.

It hurt to think of himself being stuck here with the inquisition while Bull returned to the Qun because they no longer had any use for the reports that came from Skyhold. He didn't want to see Bull leave, and that scared him, because what could he accept to do against his own will just to get Bull to stay with him? What lines could he pass just to please the Qunari enough to let the spy stay with him? 

"Wouldn't leave you." Bull said and stroke his thumbs over his cheeks and leaned in for a gentle kiss. "I'd never leave you, Kadan." 

Isala wasn't sure he believed him. But this was Bull. The man who never asked him about anything selfish, now asking him to do this. Isala didn't like it but he'd have to trust Bull in this, he owed him that much didn't he?

"When will we meet with them?" 

 


	34. They are my men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chargers or the Qun. Bull have to make a decision.

**9:41 Dragon -The storm coast-**

The storm coast was just  as rainy as it ever was when they arrived there. The location where Bull's Qunari contact would meet them were pretty much just a tarp stretched out between two trees to keep the spot underneath it dry. However it was also seemingly abandoned, leaving Isala, Bull, Sera, Dorian and the chargers the only ones around.

Isala was unsurprisingly more tense than a drawn bowstring, ready to lash out at any given second. He was holding so tightly to the shaft of his right dagger that his dark caramel skin paled up enough to nearly make it as white as Sera's or Cullen's. To say that he was uncomfortable with this situation would be an understatement, he was about as uncomfortable as a person could possibly be.

He had picked Sera and Dorian to join on this trip because if the Qunari double crossed them in this they had firepower to retaliate. Literary fire power since Dorian was a pyromancer and Sera had her bottles. Bottles Isala had of late become more and more interested in, that he was curious to learn more about when he would have a day free for learning.

Right now however, he just stood silently slightly behind Bull, looking around, waiting for the sounds of a trap. He would have been a lot more comfortable with this if he had been allowed to paint himself white and be ready to use one of his fog vials, but to introduce himself to the Qunari as a fog warrior would be catastrophic.  

"So, where's ya Qun person? I'm Fricking freezin my arse off out here." Sera complained loudly. 

"Our Qunari contacts should be here." Bull said in a way that put Isala on edge. 

Bull didn't seem confident in this at all. He hadn't been over confident in this back in Skyhold either but it had clearly been what he wanted to do and Isala couldn't deny him that. However seeing Bull not being confident in this alliance thing, made Isala feel even worse about it. It was a disaster waiting to happen if they didn't tread really damn carefully around these waters.

"And he is." A brunet elf replied as he walked into the clearing from somewhere behind the tarp. Isala tightened his grip on the dagger a bit further, just because this was an elf and not some horned giant, didn't mean he was any less Qunari. "It's good to see you Hissrad." The elf said with a smile.

"Gatt! Last I heard you were still in Seheron!" Bull said cheery. 

"They finally decided I'd calmed down enough to go back out into the world."

"Boss, this is Gatt. We worked together in Seheron!"

Isala gave Bull a flat stare. Telling him that this elf had worked together with Bull in Seheron, fighting vints, Tal-Vashoth and fog warriors wasn't going to make Isala more trusty towards the other elf. Bull probably realized the issue since he sent an apologetic look in Isala's direction. Isala rolled his eyes in return before looking at Gatt with his empty expression. 

"How nice." He said trying to keep the ice from his voice only succeeding partly. "I am, however not here to exchange war stories. Would you mind if we got to the task at hand?  _Hissrad._ "

Bull looked a bit like if Isala had slapped him when he used the Qunari title. Isala however only felt partly  guilty over it, he didn't have patience to hear war stories of how the two Qunari had fought on Seheron, that  was a chapter in their lives they would never be able to discuss. Gatt arched a brow curiously looking between the two of them but Isala made sure his face was schooled into nothing but apathy.

"Well then. The Tevinter imperium is bad enough as it is without this Venatori cult." Gatt finally said

"Yes, filthy decadent brutes the lot of them. I am certain life would be much better for all of us under the Qun." Dorian chipped in.

"It was for me. After the Qunari resqued me from slavery in Tevinter. I was eight. The  Qun isn't perfect but it gave me a better life."

"Yes, one free from all that free will and independent thought. Such an improvement."

Isala felt a headache begin to grow. Maybe Dorian hadn't been the best choice to bring. "Enough! I will not stand here listening to the two of you go on like two imekari about which form of slavery is the better! If you want to have this discussion you better have it somewhere I can't hear it because I am sick and tired of superior bullshit who has no idea what they talk about." He snapped and glared at both Dorian and Gatt, challenging them to say anything. 

Dorian actually looked a bit apologetic, the inner circle knew parts of his backstory, enough to know Isala had spent years in both Tevinter and Qunari lands. From the time after Haven had been destroyed, both Dorian and Bull knew that those years had been far from a stroll in the park. 

Gatt also backed from the argument at once, declaring that he was not there to convert anyone.

The plan was an easy one. Take out the venatori groups that were on land, light the two beacons and signal to the dreadnought that it was time to attack. Since there were two beacons they needed to split up, the chargers went one way and they went the other.

Bull had brushed his hand against's Isala's own while no one was looking, sending his puppy eyes look and Isala sighed and rolled  his eyes. But he couldn't resist the small smile curling on his lips and bumped his shoulder against Bull's arm in a silent apology himself. He had acted childish because he had been scared. Bull just gave him a toothy grin in return and everything tense between them were simply gone. 

"You're ridiculous." He muttered silently. 

"Only for you boss." Bull said with a wink.

It always looked odd when Bull winked since he just had one eye but Isala was used to it by now and only snorted before pulling away from Bull to fight the venatori group in their way. Between the five of them the groups were quick and easily dispatched. Some looting later Isala had found a creepy looking Qunari helmet that he figured might actually fit Bull. 

It would look a lot better than the silly Viitar that Bull used that made him look like a magisters daughter who got into her mother's makeup drawer. It would possibly also save him from having said viitar smeared all over his face whenever Bull decided to kiss him before washing it off.

He saw Krem and the chargers on the other side of the valley where he sat crouched down by the chest where he had found the helmet. They had already shot up their signal and Gatt was doing the same behind his back. Surprisingly, this wasn't going to hell, it was even going quite smooth. Isala wasn't certain if he liked that or if it was worse than if this all had went to shit.

"Look at that." Bull said with a laugh when the dreadnought cannons sounded.

Isala looked up in time to see the venatori ship get hit, loose control and crash into the cliffs before sinking, whatever being topside burning in an angry red before it all was devoured by the sea. It was a comforting view, without a doubt all that red lyrium would have been used on slaves who had no chance to say no if it had reached Minrathous.

However, Isala knew he should relax too soon. It was the golden rule of survival, never let your guard down until you were safely out of range of a raid and this time was no exception. Several Venatori mages walked up on the shore. Too many for only the charger to take out and Isala quickly stood up. There was no way he could slide down the cliff side without breaking every bone in his body. They'd not be able to get down in time to help in a fight.

"Crap..." Bull said tense. 

"They can't take out all those mages Bull!" Isala said and turned to him. "We can't reach them until it's too late!" 

To Isala's horror, Bull looked torn, as if this was actually  a choice. As if letting the chargers die was actually an option. "No... they can't." Bull said low and just... stared. He didn't do anything else, just stood there looking at the venatori, looking at his boys, not making a goddamn decision.

"Your men need to hold that position Hissrad." Gatt warned.

"If they do that they're dead!" Dorian argued. "You cannot honestly consider this Iron bull?" Dorian asked in disbelief. 

"If they don't stay there, the venatori retake it and the dreadnought is dead." Gatt said sharply. "You'd be throwing away an alliance between the inquisition and the Qunari! You'd be declaring yourself Tal-Vasoth!" 

Bull just frowned but still did nothing. Isala felt his blood both boil of fire by his anger and freeze to ice by fear all at once. The dragon was trashing inside of him to be let loose, to grab the horn and retreat the charger himself. But Isala held it back. This wasn't their battle, it was Bull's, it wasn't their place to choose for him, he needed to see this out for himself, or he'd never be able to move on.

"With all you've given the inquisition, half the Ben-Hassrath think you've betrayed us already! I stood up for you Hissrad. I told them you would never become Tal-Vasoth." Gatt continued. 

"They are my men." Bull finally said slowly. 

"I know, but you need to do what is right... for this alliance and for the Qun."

Isala suddenly realized where the problem laid. The problem was Gatt, the familiarity of the Qun. He quickly moved square into Bull's personal space and grabbed both Bull's cheeks, tilting his head down to look at him. Bull looked unfocused, lost and Isala knew. The Qun was easy, it was always straight lines and systems, systems Bull were comfortable with, even if he had lived outside those systems for so long. 

"Look at me. _Kadan,_ look at me" He said softly.

"Kadan." Bull mumbled back dumbly.

"I know it's frightening Bull. If you do this, you will leave your old life, certainties, systems and rules, all of it. But you have already done that." Isala stroke his cheeks with his thumbs. "You did that when you created the chargers, when you lost an eye for Krem, when you started to call me Kadan. Your boys are down there, your family, they are dying if you don't pull them out."

Bull looked at him unfocused. "I'd be tal-vasoth."

"And I am a fog warrior you stupid ox-man. We'd mach. Just... please Bull... please... don't let them die." 

 


	35. The certainty of the Qun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bull have doubts about his own sanity. Isala does not share those doubts.

**9:31 Dragon -Quarinus-**

"I cannot leave without him! He's our son Lyco!" The red-haired elven woman cried out with despair in her voice. 

To her chest she clutched tightly to the babe that was somehow still asleep even through the turmoil around her. Her little boy was holding hard to his meager packing, her husband having his hand placed over her cheek. But there was still one member of her family missing. One she had lost for so many years ago. One that she knew she would loose forever if she left Tevinter. 

"Amatus, Rianne look at me. Nicodemus is a strong boy, we will find him. But we must take this ship. Theodor and Willow are the ones important right now." Her husband said to her, his hands a safety to her cheeks  that were stained by tears.

"But Nicodemus..." She whispered heartbroken.

"Is out there but we can't find him if we are caught ourselves. We cannot put our other two children through slavery when we have a chance to give them freedom." 

Rianne clutched the her young girl to her chest and kissed on the jet black tresses. Black like her father, like her brother that she would never know. Theodor gently took her elbow, there was fear that he was trying so hard to hide. He was so brave her little son, Theodor who had been forced to grow up so fast... his hair was red, like hers, she thanked Andraste for it every day or else she would have ever only seen Nicodemus in him.

She let her husband usher them all onto the waiting ship and put a coin purse in the captains hands before they were lead to a shabby hut under deck. Drained Rianne sank down on the cot, still holding Willow close to her chest in a try to keep her safe from everything evil. Theodor carefully sat beside her gently rubbing her shoulder. 

She should be the one comforting her children, not the other way around. Yet she couldn't help the broken sob that tore out of her as the ship left the docks. Her husband sat on her other side of her and she put her head to his shoulder as she cried. 

Cried as she had the day she had lost her son in the first place. Leaving Tevinter was like loosing him all over again even if he had not seen her little boy in over a decade. She pulled her other son close to her and held the daughter to her chest. Never would she let them go as she had him, never would she allow them to be taken from her.

"We will find him again Rianne. We will free him and bring him to our new safe home." Lyco said gently. 

"We will mama, and he will live with us." Theodor promised eagerly. 

Her heart broke over how her two sons had never met. How the two brothers would likely never meet. Broke over how all hope of ever seeing her clumsy little boy again was slowly fading the further away from the docks they went. 

She had hoped with leaving Tevinter, her heart would be able to put this to rest at last. That it would be the thing that made her leave the pain of Nicodemus loss behind in Tevinter. But as it was now, her heart ached more than ever and she could not stop her tears from falling. 

* * *

**9:41 Dragon -Skyhold-**

It had been hours since his Kadan had fallen asleep. Yet his own dream depraved sleep wouldn't find him. Bull had been staring up into the roof of Isala's chambers for the last hour or so, while his dragon elf laid sprawled out over him, arms and legs tangled in a mess with his own limbs and one of his large hands rested curled into his jet black dreadlocks, minding the sharp dragon teeth. 

What usually would make him feel comfort in the elf, now only provided him with worry. 

He had left the Qun, turned himself willingly into a Tal-Vashoth. He didn't regret his boys being alive and knew in his heart that it had been the right decision. He just couldn't believe the Qun had made him choose. His men or the Qun. He closed his eye again, The Qun or his dragon elf, that he had always known, he hadn't want to know it, but he had known that the day would come when he had to choose between Isala and the Qunari. 

He drew in a deep breath, the scent of dragon mixed with his elf filled his nostrils and he knew this would always have been his choice. Isala wouldn't in his life be persuaded to join the Qun and Iron Bull wasn't very certain he wanted the free dragon elf there either. It wouldn't have been safe for someone smelling like that to live in Par Vollen, nor would anyone ever be able to tame him. 

But still. Being Tal-Vashoth was terrifying. Nothing was keeping him from going savage, nothing kept him from loosing his minds. There was no Tamassrans, no re-educators he could turn to by the first sign of insanity, just the people at Skyhold and they wouldn't be able to help him. 

What he feared most about being a Tal-Vashoth was that nothing that kept him from going insane,Tal-Vashoth had no rules, no laws of how to be. how many Vashoth hadn't he killed during the years... had they all really been insane or had they just fought for survival? What was stopping madness from going into his mind and hurt those he cared about, stopping him from reaching down and snap Isala's neck, or stab him while he slept? 

And yet, the elf didn't seem to worry where he was still breathing slowly on top of his chest. 

The Iron Bull took a silent breath and gently shifted the pretty dragon elf down on the mattress before sitting up with his back towards said elf. The ex-Qunari knew he couldn't be trusted with the elf when he wasn't even awake to defend himself. If madness would take him Isala would be killed and he'd never be able to forgive himself for that. He wouldn't put his Kadan in that danger... even if it mean he'd have to hurt Isala to keep the elf safe.

Isala was awoken by being moved around on the bed and the lack of Bull's hot body under him. For a while he settled with just laying quiet, watching Bull's back as the warrior sat faced away from him. Moonlight bathing the room in it's pale blue light and he saw, more than heard Bull sigh deeply as his shoulders lifted then sank down again.

Bull had been thinking a lot since the events earlier that day, silent thinking, the not sharing kind of thinking. The kind of thinking Isala thought was better to let him think on his own, but obviously that wasn't working very well since Bull was currently planning on leaving his bed in the middle of the night. He wouldn't have that, he couldn't sleep alone and Bull had always been there for him, now it was his turn to be there for Bull. 

Isala quietly sat up on his knees and shifted behind Bull's back before wrapping both his arms around Bull's shoulders, kissed on the back of his neck and out on his shoulder before ending with laying his head against Bull's shoulder to look at his handsome warrior. He chuckled lightly when Bull twitched and cursed, it wasn't the first time. 

"I don't understand how you forget that about my eyes all the times." He said amused and kissed Bull's cheek. 

Bull grumbled something about glowing that he couldn't quite make out, but some of the tension had drained from Bull's shoulders and Isala gently rubbed his hands down over Bull's pectoral muscles, massaged his chest and slid his hands all the way down to Bull's round stomach and smiled. He liked Bull's shape, he liked there wasn't just hard muscles everywhere but some softness too. 

"Talk to me." He said gently. "You are full of thoughts yet you say nothing, let me help?" He asked and rubbed his cheek against Bull's, like a dragon would do to show silent affection.

"Kadan you should sleep." Bull said and sighed deeply. "It's late." 

"I can't sleep. Someone was planning on leaving the bed." He said and nipped the tip of Bull's pointed ear. "Come back to bed and talk to me?" 

Bull sighed deeply. If there was something his dragon smelling elf was, it was stubborn, even if Bull left, refusing to talk, the elf would most likely wait him out. He sighed deeply again and finally gave up with a nod. At once did the elf tug him back on the bed until his back hit the sheets under him and his head ended up in Isala's lap, horns snugly secure between elven hips and knees.

Isala shifted around until he got his little feet up on Bull's chest making him growl because damn that was freezing. Isala however just gave a cheeky grin rubbing his feet to Bull's chest and stomach, spreading their cold everywhere. Bull quickly put his hands over the cold elf feet to keep them still, trying to heat them up by rubbing his thumbs to the inner sides. 

It wasn't lost on him how he had earlier teased Dorian about how there was too few slaves around to rub the altus' footsies. Isala was from Tevinter too, a former slave, Bull wouldn't mind rubbing his footsies to keep them warm. For a while he was content like this, just silently working heat into his dragon elf's footsies while the elf stroke his fingers over Bull's stubble.

When those fingers moved around his face and finally settles to rub and prod every sensitive spot on his horns he almost melted into a puddle. He never understood how someone without horns could manipulate the spots so easily to sway Bull's body into the elf's whims and wishes. Not even a lot of other people of his own race knew how to do that to others than themselves.

There had to be some sort of cheating involved, had Isala been a mage Bull would have claimed it to be magic. But his dragon elf wasn't a mage, he was a rouge, a very strange rouge who also happened to be part dragon, but not a mage. 

"How are you so good at that Kadan?" He asked as he closed his eye, just relaxing.

"Dragons have horns and I was taught from childhood to learn how people desired to be touched." Isala said easily. 

Bull opened his eye and looked up. Slightly concern over what had been said because he knew where and why he had been taught how to do that and he didn't want the elf to feel forced to do that for him. But the elf looked at peace, a smile blooming out when they met each others eyes before Isala leaned in and kissed his lips softly. Bull easily kissed back and when Isala pulled back he had his eye closed again, content with the touch of fingers to his horns. 

"Hm." He was his only reply. 

Isala kept his smile as Bull relaxed entirely under his fingers. He supposed it was cheating to make Bull into a puddle before making the ex-Qunari talk, but he didn't feel bad for cheating today. Bull needed to talk and it wouldn't happen in a good way if he remained tenser than a strung bowstring. 

Isala gently worked the eye patch off Bull's face and horn, putting it aside on the bedside table and stroke gently after the scars there. Bull sighed slightly and Isala smiled, following another scar over his face then the one over his lip, slid his fingers back to touch the stubble before bringing them back up to rub by the base of the horns. 

"Tell me what's bothering you?" He asked gently.

Bull sighed deeply, chest heaving under his feet. "I could kill you." The ex-Qunari mumbled. 

"Yes, so you could last week, the week before that or the moment you first saw me." Isala said calmly and stroke his thumbs over Bull' eyebrows smoothing them out. "When you figured I was a fog warrior, whenever I have turned my back to you. But you never have."

"I... it's not the same. What is keeping me from-"

"The same thing as yesterday." Isala said and smiled. "You aren't crazy Bull, you won't hurt me. I know that, because you are too big in here." He said and put both hands over Bull's heart. 

"How do you know? The Qun kept me straight." 

"You need rules and certainties. So, let's make some, you and me. The Qun is an idea, a system, anyone can make systems. You make them all the time. You make them in battle, the way you move and fight, in the bedroom with words and safety and in everyday life by the way you act and talk"

Bull huffed and looked up at him, scrunching his nose in a way a large warrior like him shouldn't, because it made him look like a disgruntled kitten. Isala couldn't resist a chuckle and leaned in kissing a line along the bridge of Bull's broken nose then landed a last one on his lips before he pulled back again to look down at the warrior. 

"What if I loose it? I don't... I can't go to anyone to fix me. What if I hurt you?" 

"You can't be fixed bull because you're a person, not a tool. If you feel like you are slipping, you tell me and I'll help you." Bull stared up at him and Isala rolled his eyes. "In my way, not Qunari crazy way. Look, Bull you are not the first I have met who left the Qun. You aren't broken just cause you leave and you're not insane, mad or a killing machine because of it either."

Bull looked away as much as his horns would allow still pinned between Isala's hips, legs and sides. Isala grabbed Bull's cheeks gently and tilted his head back while smiling. He had faith in Bull, his handsome warrior wouldn't break or go mad. Isala would make sure of it. 

Bull sighed when he looked up into his dragon elf's face. The elf trusted him so deep that Bull couldn't help to feel a bit assured by it. He would never hurt Isala, never the dragon elf, no matter if he could, no matter if Isala was tied up and squirming under him. He wouldn't hurt him, ever, if not by his own strong will but because not even in madness could he resist Isala's smell. 

Bull reached his hand up and pulled Isala's head back down into a deep kiss, content over how the elf melted against him. 

"Never leave me Kadan?" He mumbled against elven lips. 

"Never." The elf promised.

Bull believed him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course the chargers lives! :3 Isala wouldn't let Bull make a bad decision there :)


	36. Being late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isala is late and Bull doesn't care.

**9:41 Dragon -Skyhold-**

"What is a pretty elf  like you doing sneaking around in a place like this?" 

Isala had squeaked as he was forced face and chest first to the cool stone wall by a strong large hand to his back. For a second he had been ready to fight, unleash the dragon and shred whoever was touching him.

However, when Bull spoke, Isala just smirked and leaned to the wall, arching just the slightest to present his ass better to Bull. It was all fun and games, as long as he knew who it was behind him and he always could say no if he didn't want it.

Bull chuckled and grabbed his ass through his tight pants instead of keeping it to his back while the other hand grabbed Isala's wrists to pull them over his head, pinning them firmly to the wall. It made Isala laugh lightly, he had really slowly been making his way towards Josephine's office, the ambassador demanding that he picked proper clothes to the winter palace (which he really didn't look forwards to). This, was not an unwelcome distraction. 

"Hm? Just some secret elf business." He teased playfully. 

"Oh?" Bull slid his knee in between Isala's legs and Isala took a deep breath to parry a moan that wanted to slip out. "That so?" Bull rumbled by his ear.

"Oh fuck yes." He sighed happily. "This better be quick though, Josephine is expecting me in her office in... err, for two hours ago." He hummed.

Bull laughed and licked along his ear, making Isala shiver by anticipation. He fucking loved when Bull licked his ears, it never hit wrong and went straight down his way too tight pants. Isala leaned his forehead against the stone wall with a happy sigh as Bull began trailing nips and kisses down his neck. Simply content with his place in life.

This was so stupid, anyone could walk into this room and bust them doing whatever it was that Bull intended for him right now. And yet, that was half the thrill with Bull catching him alone in public places. To know they were doing something they weren't supposed to do this open, something that probably would drive Josephine mad if she or some poor noble caught them in the act. 

Bull gave a firm squeeze to his ass before the hand slipped around him to find the buckles of Isala's belts. Isala laughed lightly when Bull grumbled in annoyance about his belts that never wanted to cooperate. They cooperated just fine when they were in the bedroom and Isala was thrown on the bed left to Bull's mercy, but standing they always caused a slight problem.

"I love that you don't have much on your chest, but your belts hate me." Bull growled and bit to his shoulder with his sharp teeth in punishment for his belts. 

Isala just broke out laughing when Bull failed another time on the belts. That made Bull have enough and roughly spun Isala around, slamming his back to the wall, easily picking the elf up from the ground, pinning him to the stone behind him. Isala grinned and quickly wrapped his legs around Bull's hips in retaliation and leaned in for a kiss that was a lot more teeth than lips. He knew Bull wanted him to unbuckle his belt but Isala was a fucking tease.

"Belt." Bull growled at him when Isala didn't make any move to remove them on his own. 

"Tsk, touchy. What's the magic word?" He hummed but yipped surprised when Bull jerked him upwards. He quickly collected himself and nibbled Bull's jaw "Have I ever mentioned how much I like it when you lift me up?" He purred and bit down close to Bull's ear while working his belts open between them, it was a bit difficult even for him when their bodies were so close to each others that his hands weren't given much space. 

"Mhmm, and public places. You really are a little rebel." Bull growled in his ear. "You love the idea of someone finding out don't you? Just to prove you can do what you want." 

Isala hummed and smiled. "It's freedom. No one can own me when I'm already yours willingly." He said and slapped his belt over Bull's horn and grinned. "Hold that for me will you." he said and snickered. 

"Mhmm, my ataashi" bull grunted against his neck. 

"Yours." Isala breathed out and rolled his hips against Bull's as good as he could before he unfastened his second belt and added it beside the first. 

Bull grunted, kissing him roughly again before letting Isala slide back down to the floor. Isala tried to get another kiss but Bull just easily flipped him back around to face the wall, placing a small kiss to the back of his neck. Isala sighed happily and grinned as one of Bull's arms leaned to the wall beside his face, in reach for Isala to lick a long stripe over the hard bicep. 

Bull growled low behind him and pressed his large chest to Isala's lanky back and the other hand slipped down into the back of Isala's pants, teasing and circling his entrance making Isala moan quietly, leaning more of his weight against the wall and grabbed Bull's arm with his hand to keep upright and not fall to the ground as his knees felt like giving in. 

"Mhmm, so tight for me ataashi, can you be quiet for me this time hm? Got a reward for you later if you can be quiet this once." Bull mumbled by his ear.

Isala whined needy but bit his lip while nodding quickly to show he'd be silent. Bull's rewards were the best rewards and he knew that right now they probably would do best in not actually getting caught, how thrilling the idea yet would be, Josephine might actually kill him if she realized he'd been fucking instead of going to her office. 

He gasped when Bull sank down to his knees behind him, the left leg protesting slightly by the sound of the brace, but Isala forgot all about it when Bull tugged down his pants. He knew exactly what Bull was up to and for a moment he honestly doubted his ability of being quiet through all this. Bull had a way of picking him apart until he was just a mess of growling, whining and blabbering different languages.

Luckily Bull's punishments were almost as good as his rewards so Isala was confident they would have a lot of fun either way later that night. However he wasn't quite ready to give the challenge up yet so he bit down hard to his own wrist to brace himself. 

He whined into his wrist and bit down on it harder with his sharp teeth when Bull nudged his legs as wide as his half pulled down pants allowed it. A warning bite to his thigh told him to stop making noises and he quickly took several calming breaths, just barely had the time to parry the growl he wanted to make when Bull lapped his entrance. 

After some time with Bull's tongue up his ass Bull pulled back and turned him around again to work on his dick with his mouth, fingers drifting back to continue playing his ass. Bull's fingers were always filling him up a lot better than his tongue did, even if his tongue was a lot nicer in the start of things. It didn't take long until Isala lost rhythm on if his hips should move forwards to the hot of Bull's mouth or back to get deeper on those fingers, his hands gripping hard to Bull's horns while his head was thrown back in silent moans and suppressed growls.

When the building pleasure began to coil dangerously he couldn't help himself. He let out string of growls and snarls mixed with loud moaning and panting. Per usual those sounds made Bull loose his calm, and change the calm pace they had kept up into a brutal onslaught that Isala couldn't keep quiet to. It didn't take long before he came undone with a loud predatory growl, nearly a dragon shriek.  

Bull quickly pulled away when he had swallowed down what Isala had to offer, being a lot more quick about it than he usually was. Isala, who was a limp heavy breathing pile against the wall hoped Bull hadn't been too serious about him being quiet, because he didn't like how quickly Bull pushed his pants back up his hip, half covering his spent cock. 

But a cheeky grin from the warrior told him Bull wasn't actually angry and seconds later the door flung up with a bang, a very armed Cassandra stepped into the room. She looked ready to battle a high dragon by her own as she scanned the room and her eyes fell on the two of them. Two recruits walked in behind her both of them holding their hands on their swords.

"What is the meaning of this?" Cassandra asked strained as she glared daggers at them both. 

Isala quickly tucked himself completely down his pants and cleared his throat awkwardly. By the way the female recruit eyed his crotch told him he should have done it a little bit quicker and he crossed his arms and avoided looking at her even if it was hard to miss the blush on the poor girl as she was trying to look at anything but Isala and Bull.

"Meaning of what?" He asked in pretend stupidity and quickly snatched his belts off Bull's horn where they were still hanging.

Bull was still grinning mischievously having far too much fun with this. But Isala had to admit, it was hard to keep a straight face and not laugh about this all himself, because to be honest, Cassandra walking on on them of all people were priceless, especially since she seemed to have expected some kind of fight. The only one that could have been better would be Cullen because without a doubt the poor commander would turn into a tomato. Unless Dorian had worked that out of him by now. 

"I was told there was a possible threat of a dragon." Cassandra said low and dangerously near a growl herself. "And now I am less confused." 

"Ah that... uhm... Dragon? What dragon? Ain't no dragon here. There's an ox though, but I wouldn't challenge him for a duel won't end good." Isala said and smiled the cutest smile he could come up with. The smile he used on Orchid whenever he had done something stupid with Tenek and needed new healing potions.  

Bull barked out a laugh beside him and Isala hit his arm which made him sober up enough to stop laugh, but still chuckled lightly when he spoke up. "I was just helping ataashi to relax. Dragon sounds, yeah can't explain that one without using a bunch of Qunari sentences you wouldn't understand." Bull said gladly.

The one of the recruits behind Cassandra who wasn't blushing fiercely snorted amused over the statement. Cassandra shot the poor man a death glare, then aimed it back towards Isala and Bull again. Isala just sighed in relief, he really didn't need people to wonder more about his dragon nature than they already did and bull didn't seem to mind that people thought he made dragon noises when he was up to something wicked.

"I... do not wish to know." Cassandra finally concluded. "Inquisitor, are you not meant to meet the tailor for your clothes to the winter palace now." She said instead and locked her dark eyes firmly with his yellow ones.

Isala groaned loudly and leaned his head back to the stone wall behind him as he buckled the belts around his hips again. With Bull around him and inside him he had entirely forgotten all about that meeting and why they were there in the first place. He wasn't just bored of the idea, now he was also very, very late for said meeting and he was certain Josephine would make him pay for it somehow. 

She was a terrifying woman really, she just looked sternly at the nobles and they folded like the grass for a boot. They could probably just send her forwards and she'd lecture Corypheus about how terribly rude it was to just try invading Thedas without invitation or something and they'd win the battle without even fighting.

"Of course Cassandra." He said and quickly kissed Bull's cheek.

Bull swatted his ass when Isala moved away, making him squeak and blush slightly before he quickly scurried away from Cassandra's steely glare and the two recruits that were both working hard not to laugh or blush too hard. The rumors that would be flying around tonight would be damn intense. 

And still, Isala was grinning the moment he got out of sight, he had liked that a bit too much.


	37. Of strangers and tailors.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josephine is getting a headache over Isala and his stubbornness over not showing up to meetings when he is meant to.

**9:41 Dragon -Skyhold-**

Josephine's morning had yet so far been three meetings with different nobles, the sending of six letters and a long visit from the tailor who'm now was presenting her different outfit suggestions for the inquisitor. The grand ball at the winter palace was quickly approaching and at every scheduled appointment with a tailor Isala mystically had a very important matter to attend to outside of Skyhold. 

That's why she hadn't told him about the meeting with the tailor until the meeting was just an hour away. Now, three hours later, she regretted telling him about the meeting at all, perhaps she should have simply asked him to come by his office for tea and cookies. Their inquisitor had a sweet tooth as bad as Sera's and both elves could be tricked into meetings if there was a promise of cookies. 

Josephine had long given up the hope that their inquisitor would ever wear proper clothes here in Skyhold. She never stopped sending up new clothes to him in hope he might find something suitable however. And he never stopped walking down with his chest bare and his legs in too tight leggings or pants made of dragon skin. She had scolded Harritt for continuing to make those pants and leggings for Isala and the smith had just chuckled and told her that the inquisitor was far more intimidating than her.

Luckily, their inquisitor was very attractive and noble women nearly swooned at the sight of him. The men were quick to agree to anything their wives or lovers said to appease them and claimed that it was _endearing_  or  _impressive._ Josephine had understood that Isala was doing his own kind of rebelling, often he could be making the opposite choice of what was asked from him, simply because he could. 

It was nice, she supposed. She could see why he did it, if she had lived her entire life being forced to do things because someone owned her, she'd be doing the opposite to what people wanted too. They should be glad that the elf was thoughtful and caring, never did he do these little acts of rebellions when it really mattered.

Except for now, clothes would be important beyond belief in the winter palace but she doubted he understood that. Maker, they would have to teach him how to dance, the game and how to act in a ballroom or this would be a lost cause before they had even stepped inside. He couldn't walk around with his chest bare and half his weapon collection on display while getting too handsy with The Iron Bull in some dark corner. The corners of the Orlesian court had ears and eyes.

That  would give the wrong kind of gossip for months possibly years to come, and bringing Sera? That was just... this would be a disaster unless she could sway him into maybe bringing Vivienne or possibly Cassandra, that could play to their advantage.

"Maker preserve us." She sighed as she looked down at the attire in front of her, red silk with a blue sash. Isala would probably prefer to go naked than be seen in this. "No, no he will not wear this, perhaps something black, or dark blue? And we need to find him a pair of light boots, something that he will barely feel or he'll refuse to wear them." 

"Perhaps black satin and golden details? It would fit to his eyes very splendidly." The tailor suggested.

Josephine pondered that, If they could get the elf to wear matching gold hoops in his hair and ears, that would look very nice with his jet black dreadlocks. She wished he'd just have less wild hair, and those tattoos drew people to check twice every time, not to mention the dragon like eyes. 

"Perhaps leggings will be a good suit? And we must obtain golden hoops for his hair and ears. Maybe we can even make his hair look... respectable." She said as she leaned back in her chair.

The tailor nodded solemnly as he scribbled down the suggestions on one of his many notes and began sketching on something new. They wouldn't have to be guessing this much if Isala would just be so kind as to show up at these meetings. Josephine took a deep breath, nobles, royals, dukes and duchesses. Those were people she knew how to handle, people she could make dance after her pipe in an instant. 

The inquisitor... he was as difficult to get into proper clothes as her sister had been when she was five and had decided that dresses were terrible. She had been screaming and kicking for hours until the dress had been on place and she had decided she liked it. However Josephine doubted she could physically force Isala to anything without the elf possibly stabbing her then leave. 

The door opened and she looked up, hoping it would be the two recruits she had sent away looking for the inquisitor. Indeed there was one recruit and one handsome black haired elf. An slightly older less tattooed and less scarred elf who'm had his silky jet black hair in a soft braid over his shoulder instead of in dreadlocks and looked as if he had lived his life as a farmer instead of a warrior. 

It was of course not the correct elf, but only nearly. The resemblances were stunning, the same facial structure the same color of skin and hair, Isala was probably a bit prettier but she supposed that could have to do with age. One would have to be upright blind not to see that these two elves were related somehow, if she hadn't known Isala's life had begun in Tevinter she would guess father. As it was now... that felt unlikely.

"Ambassador Montilyet this man was found close by on the road. He claim-"

"I am looking for someone." The man cut short. "An elven man, black hair, blue eyes, twenty eight years of age and once went by the name Nicodemus. You would know him as your Inquisitor." He had a pleasant voice and Josephine could imagine Varric getting competition in story telling with this man.

Then his words finally broke through to her and she blinked. Twenty eight would be a possible age for their inquisitor. Not that anyone knew, he didn't tell them and Leliana couldn't find much information about him at all. All she had found on his earlier slave name was that he had been sold and purchased for a lot of coin. But those papers had mostly describes his appearances and gender, not his age

Josephine looked between the elf and the scout keeping her calm to herself. Isala didn't have blue eyes nor did he have the name Nicodemus. But again, in the papers Leliana had found Isala had been described with blue eyes, not the dragon like yellow he had now. Also if nothing else, this elf was almost an exact older copy of the elf in question.

"Would you please ask the inquisitor to come to my office at once? It is a matter most urgent... tell him it is not about clothes this time. Then inform the spymaster and the commander as well and have someone send up teas and biscuits. Thank you." She asked the recruit who still stood beside the elf. 

The recruit put her hand to her chest and bowed a small bow before hurrying out of the room and closed the door behind her. When the recruit was gone she turned to the tailor that had been looking at the black haired elf, without a doubt making the exact same parallels to the inquisitor as she herself had done just moments ago. This was gossip she'd prefer not come out until Isala had approved it.

"We will have to take this another day, I will send for a date and would appreciate many more ideas." She said firmly to the tailor.

The tailor bowed curtly and gathered up his sketches before leaving the room as well, a good thing about Orlesians, they knew when they weren't wanted and when they couldn't win a discussion about being allowed to stay. Josephine turned to smile at the elf, he couldn't be that much older than Isala, Josephine would probably peg him somewhere between forty and fifty.

The elf didn't return the smile but instead looked guarded. Something she had seen on the inquisitor from time to time when he hadn't decided if the person in question was friend or foe. Something he had used a lot in Haven while looking at Cassandra or Leliana, it was the look of someone who had seen other people do dark things to them in the past.

"Please have a seat. Tea will be here shortly along with the inquisitor. I am Josephine Montyliet, one of the inquisitors advisers."

The elf gave a polite if very stiff bow on his head but didn't take a seat. "Lady Montilyet, you must forgive me, but I am not here for tea." The accent was clearly Tevene even if it had been changed of years by what she guessed to be Fereldan. 

"Of course. May I ask why you seek the inquisitor?" She asked politely.

"He's my son."


	38. Remembering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A less warm and more terrified family reunion. Isala isn't a happy elf.

**9:41 Dragon -Skyhold-**

An agent had caught him in the main hall when he tried to slip in without being noticed. Clearly he'd been getting rusty on keeping hidden out of sight, or maybe it was just because of who he was now and how much he stuck out in a crowd looking the way he did.

In Seheron his yellow dragon like eyes had been strange, such as they were everywhere. But his dreadlocks, his tattoos, his scars, his clothes. They hadn't been that strange to anyone, it was too hot to walk around with too much clothes, the land saw constant war and everyone was scarred somehow, facial tattoos were as common as earrings or vitaar.

Besides mostly Isala had lived his life in the deep forests, only meeting with other fog warriors and all of them were a rowdy bunch of misfits that didn't judge each other for looks. They had a common goal and that was to free Seheron, how people looked while doing it, wasn't important.

Whatever the reason, he was still spotted, this agent at least had some good news, Josephine seemed to have cancelled the meeting with the tailor. Or more likely Isala had taken so long that the tailor had left and Josephine now planned to scold him for behaving like a child and not showing up to important meetings. Maybe she'd lecture him about the game and how important it was for him to know it. 

It was strange how people continued to believe he had no knowledge of how the game worked. How Josephine continued to try to explain things like what fork to use when, as if Isala hadn't spent eighteen years serving masters who lived by the game as a rule. As if Tarsicius hadn't taught him how to dance, how to talk and how to move in the game only to baffle his enemies with a slave who was so well taught he was in class with any magisters child in good behavior. 

But he kept that information to himself. Just like he had kept that he could talk to himself, as he would continue to do unless someone specifically asked if he knew these things. He would be silent about his skills until the point where they were needed for a greater cause than Isala being difficult. 

Isala walked into Josephine's room while tying his dreadlocks up to a tight ponytail high on his head with a leather cord while trying to make up a good enough excuse for being several hours late. He knew the way his belts were slightly askew a trained person would notice at once that he had been up to something he shouldn't, but he hadn't the time to fix them and doing that now would simply pull attention to it.

"I'm late, Sera and Krem tried to talk me into letting them use the trebutchets and to be honest I am tempted! Krem makes these nugs with wings and we, err, they want to know how far they fly." He said in announcement as he stepped in with a wide grin.

A very short lived grin because Josephine wasn't alone in her office. It wasn't the tailor, Isala had met the tailor and filed that face away for his avoidance list. The elven man who stood up when he had spoken up, who abandoned the cup of tea he had been drinking from ,was most certainly not the tailor. Isala really wasn't blind, he had seen himself in a mirror and this man looked a lot like him, a bit older, less scarred by war, less tattoos and with soft silky hair not kept in rough dreadlocks.

"Nicodemus?"

Isala took a cautious step backwards, his initial response was to flee but he remained glued to the floor. Not by his own wishes but because of the dragon. **"Hear him out."** The dragon warned and Isala blinked.  _"Why, I do not wish to listen."_ He snapped back at the dragon.  **"You are frightened. Listen to what he say and I will seek the memories connecting with your childhood."** Isala scrunched his nose. He didn't want to know about his childhood, it was forgotten for a reason.  **"Yes you do."** Was the dragon's answer to that. 

"No. My name is Isala." He said and crossed his arms defensively. "Isala Shadow." 

"It wasn't always." The man said calmly.

Too calm. Isala didn't like it one bit. **"You are being difficult, cease your struggling."** The dragon chided and Isala huffed silently. He wasn't being difficult, he was being perfectly reasonable, for all he knew this was just a ploy. A demon pretending or maybe his old masters son trying to trick him back to Tevinter.  **"Isala!"** Isala blinked, realized that the elf was speaking. 

"I don't expect you to remember... Maker, it has been so long almost thirty years..." The man said looking pained. "My name is Lyco."  

Isala clenched his fingers. He didn't like this, didn't like this man, didn't like his past and he sure as hell didn't want to relive it. He didn't need anyone to tell him who this was, they were painfully alike only different ages and this man had his jet black silky hair in a long braid over his shoulder instead of dreadlocks and seemed to have lived a far more comfortable life than he had.  **"You are being unfair."**  

"I don't remember." He agreed coldly . "Someone looking like me, doesn't want to remember Tevinter." 

The older man winced and looked down. "I had hoped... when we heard of your actions here... we had hoped you had escaped young." The man said carefully. 

Isala wasn't sure if the regret was played or real, he just knew he didn't trust it. He trusted nothing about this man.  **"You are being difficult. He is not pretending, we would have both noticed."** The dragon prodded reminding in his head.  _"He was taught as I to show nothing. He could lie and we'd not know."_ Isala argued with the dragon. The dragon made an annoyed feeling slide through their shared body and Isala couldn't suppress the annoyed huff he made.

"Eighteen." He snapped out. "I was a good part into eighteen and I don't remember either of you."

"I do not expect you to. I was... Rianne and I was picked for breeding. your mother was allowed to keep you until you were five. Then you were taken from her" The man said and this time the pain was clear in both his voice and his eyes. 

Isala was about to tell him he didn't remember her either when the dragon managed to supply him with a flood of imagery and he closed his mouth and eyes, taking a deep breath. It was always uncomfortable when the dragon was in there digging around in things long forgotten.  _"Stop.."_ He silently begged. He didn't WANT to remember.  **"It is vital that you do. I am sorry."**

Isala ignored the sound of the door being opened behind him in favor for keeping his eyes shut, temporarily locked in the memory of himself and his mother. He didn't want to remember this and by the apologetic feeling that rushed through his body, he was fairly certain the dragon was feeling uncomfortable about doing this to him as well. 

"Red hair tied in a braid. The smell of lavender and daffodils as she cleaned our masters laundry. A knee scraped to the ground and she cleaned it up with wash water, always with a sad smile on her lips, knowing the fate of her son. Our master took me away, _'no one want a clumsy slave, you are lucky you are pretty knife eared filth'._ he told me." 

Isala shuddered and opened his eyes again. He ignored Josephine's small gasp and how pale she was. Ignored that the clinking of Cullen's armor had stopped abruptly and ignored that the elf in front of him looked as if he had been hit it the face. He didn't want to remember this, had no interest in knowing his biological family because no matter if they hadn't done the things that had happened to him, they were still the reason he had been born to begin with.

"Nicodemus..."

"I remember sad eyes from the other slaves because I was too pretty. I remember being sold off like a slab of meat and I remember being sold off like a pretty trinket. I remember being shocked by electricity until my heart stopped for the fun of it, I remember being used for sex because I conveniently enough look like a girl from behind. I remember being forced into a blood magic ritual that fucked up my head so severely it's irreversible. But I have no recollection of my own fucking name, so you will excuse me if I don't give a shit about the name you both gave me. My name is Isala and you better start using it." He snapped harsh.

Not even the dragon said anything. Josephine was practically looking as if she was the one who had lived through all those things. But his the elf who clearly would be his father didn't recoil. Didn't gasp in horror as other people would have when Isala directed that tone to them, especially since he had growled deep in his throat by the end of his words.

The other elf just nodded calmly as he looked at Isala. The pain still in his face but he didn't pull back nor did he lash out. "Of course, I apologize." He said instead and Isala just stared baffled at him. The man was... apologizing? "It is no excuse, but we wanted to take you when we ran. But... we had no idea where you were, we had a very tight window that the blight had provided us."

"I was at Seheron. I killed my master and was dragged off to Par Vollen in shackles." He said and sighed deeply.

"Par Vollen... then..."

"No. I am not Qunari. I would not trade one form of slavery for another when I finally had broken free." He said and looked down at his hands. 

"Your mother will be proud over that when I tell her." 

Isala closed his eyes. He only ever remembered his mother looking sad at him. Knew as he had always known it was most likely his own fault that she was so sad all the time. She'd probably still be sad if she saw him. He would never be good enough to make her happy. He swallowed hard and took a deep shaky breath, he had wanted to save her once, but he had failed that too.

"She'll be sad because her son can't do shit right. I... fuck. I can't." He mumbled silently. "I'm sorry I couldn't save her."

He backed a step, opening his mouth to say something but choked on the lump in his throat. He walked straight into Cullen as he took another step back and quickly spun around, dodged the commander and slipped past Leliana out the door before cloaking himself in shadows and fled. He couldn't take this, not now, not ever. All he wanted was to go home, to Seheron and pretend none of this had ever happened, he needed to fight because that was what he was good at, he needed Seheron free so other elves could one day live free. 

The older elf looked after his son and his heart ached, it wasn't a child's duty to save their parent. It wasn't a child's duty to make their parents smile. It was a parents place to protect their children, him and Rianna had succeeded with two of their children but the third had gone through a hell worse than three persons together should have to endure. 

"Give him time. He does this when it get's hard." The ambassador said in kind. "I can have one of the guest rooms ready within the hour and you can wait him out."

"I would appreciate that. Thank you."


	39. The two warriors of Seheron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isala need to let out some aggression. Bull is there to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for blood and injuries. There's a sparring mach coming up.

**9:41 Dragon -Skyhold-**

The Iron Bull was silently watching his kadan as the elf was kicking his soldiers asses in the sparring ring. Not just a little ass whopping either, but a full force combat experience. It was the kind of sparring that two experienced fighters would do after decades of practice. Really, the soldiers didn't stand a chance against the flurry that was the inquisitor.

Not even when the elf demanded the poor soldiers to give it all with their blunt training weapons or when he ordered them to go three against one could they measure against the pissed off elf. Iron Bull wasn't actually certain if the elf was pissed off or upset, he just knew that there was something up and now was not the time to ask him what that something was.

"So, this is why fog warriors are feared huh?" Krem asked where he stood beside Bull. "I can see why they are counted as the worst of the rebels."

"Imagine a thick fog that you didn't even realize was there until you can't see shit, then without a sound half your squad is already dead and you have to fight a practically invisible force of _that_." Bull grunted with a nod towards Isala who flipped a soldier around and held his dagger to the poor guys heart before pulling back to start again. 

"That... is terrifying actually. How do they see in it themselves?" Varric asked curiously. "I mean, they would kill each other if they didn't see in it." 

Varric had been the one who had given a heads up about Isala being on the path of war to begin with. The dwarf hadn't known why either, just seen him storming out from Josephine's office. But all three of them knew something was pissing the inquisitor off and Bull doubted it was just because he had been forced to have that meeting with the tailor.

The elf didn't like to be dressed up like a puppet but it didn't turn him into actual violence like this. 

"No idea. He won't tell me, says it's a secret." Bull grunted. "But somehow they do see, I mean, they're kicking our asses but not even once have a civilian been hurt by their blades. I think that's why they can keep hidden, the local people don't have a quarrel with them, the Tal-Vashoth can't be in the cities without the people telling the Qunari but there's just never get any reports of the fog warriors." 

"You're impressed aren't you Tiny?" Varric asked and chuckled. 

Bull sighed slightly but smiled "I am. Meeting Isala has been damn interesting." He admitted. Ever since he met his dragon smelling elf he hadn't been able to just pull all rebels over the same edge. Isala was nervous, compassionate, eager, curious and all of those things that made a person a person. He wasn't just a savage who sabotaged for the fun of it, he was really trying to make a difference for his people.

"Think he's pissed over the winter palace coming up?" Krem suggested as Isala smacked another recruit to the ground with probably a concussion. 

"Nah, I don't think he care 'bout that much." Bull said thoughtfully. "I mean, he don't like that he has to dress up, but it wouldn't make him like this." 

They stood silent for a while and watched as Isala slammed another soldier to his back on the ground with a feral snarl and Bull sighed. Sooner or later someone would get hurt for real, like breaking bones kind of hurt and that wouldn't be good for anyone. He sighed and pushed himself up from the wall and walked over to the ring. 

"Again! Do you think an enemy goes nicely on you just because you fight like an imekari?!" Isala snapped at the soldier who had taken the blunt knife to his chest plate.

Isala was moving in a way that screamed of agitation and Bull walked into the ring, nodding his dismissal to the soldier who practically scrambled out of the ring head first to get away from the angry elf. Bull leaned to the fence of the ring and looked at his dragon elf calmly, he didn't even seem to notice the change of opponent. Maybe because it happened each time Isala kicked their asses.

"You know, you'll need'em alive if there'll be a war. Breakin'em down here won't help." Bull pointed out with a smile.

Isala spun around and for a moment Bull was concerned the elf might actually attack him on pure reflex and he took a slightly more ready stance. The dreadlocks clicked where the dragon teeth snapped together, the cord had long since fallen out. Isala had tossed his west aside, showing off fine planes of defined muscles that was practically glistening in the sun by the layer of sweat on his body. 

But right now, for the first time really, Bull could see his kadan in the battlefields of Seheron, he could see the elf being the fog warrior he claimed to be. He could see Isala being a warrior from a land who saw constant war. Not only in the scars of his body but the way Isala held himself, it was in his eyes, the need to fight for survival.

"What they need is to learn how to fight! They need to learn how to survive or they will be killed before they even remembered to raise their swords." The elf snapped back at him. 

Bull tilted his head slightly. So that was what this was about, Isala not being able to save everyone in battle. No, there was something deeper, but it was in the area. What the elf needed was a way to get it out of his systems and even if Isala had made Bull talk his problems out after Adamant, he still thought the Qunari way of hitting things out was the better way. 

So, he grabbed the large dull broad sword and tried it out in his hand. "I know, just sayin' showing might be better to start with, you up for a dance?" He asked and did a practice swing to check out the balance of his weapon. It was a bit heavy to the side but he had managed with worse. 

Isala's agitated pacing stopped and the elf stood entirely still with that look on his face that he had when Bull was fairly certain the elf was talking to his dragon in some odd kind of way. But fuck if that wasn't a hot thought, that an elf shaped dragon was standing just in front of him contemplating if he was worth a fight or not. 

After some more moments of indecision, Isala's face split to a shit eating grin, taking a ready stance and Bull reflected both grin and pose. He had needed a good fight for quite some time now and he knew Isala was a warrior worth fighting and he wouldn't be forced to hold back on his moves.

This would be good.

It didn't take long until the two lovers had attracted a crowd. The elf fast and agile as he danced around the ring, while the Qunari used his brute force and strength, charging after the elf with wide blows. It wasn't like a usual sparring between the soldiers, in usual sparring the two parts would hold back, trying not to inflict any actual injury on the other part. 

No now heavy blows and sharp jabs were delivered with force, aimed to hurt and harm. Neither of the two would hold anything back and neither of the two seemed to care that they had managed to draw blood from each other even with their dull weapons.

The people in the crowd would wince for every time the lithe elf got slammed across the chest with the training sword so hard he would be thrown back to the ground. There would be gasps whenever the elf smashed one of those training daggers to the Qunari's exposed left side with a sickening cracking sound as if something broke. Some were even concerned this had gone too far, that it wasn't a sparring match anymore but an actual deadly fight.

Cullen and Cassandra had tried to call it off but both elf and Qunari had shouted to them to not interfere with the threat of bodily harm. To be honest, Cullen believed in the threats and he didn't want to get in the middle of that sword and those daggers. Whenever one of the fighters went to the ground and it seemed the fight was over there would be an unexpected move and they would be right back to fighting. 

Isala was bleeding from his lip where it had been split open by a heavy blow, his shoulder, his side and a long strike across his cheek. Blood had dribbled down his chin and chest and his left wrist was sprained painfully hopefully not broken. Bull wasn't faring much better himself, bleeding from his eyebrow, his side, a long scratch over his arm and was breathing heavily while they circled each other, searching for openings. 

"That all you got little fog dragon?" Bull teased with a grin. 

Isala rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth to get some blood out of the way before he grinned widely. He had needed this, he had needed it so bad that it felt like the world was a brighter place now that he had been allowed it. The people all around them was barely even registered in his minds, his focus laid on Bull and nothing else.

"Fog dragon huh?" He replied cheeky and his finger slipped down to his belt. 

Bull's eyes widened before he cursed loudly in Qunlat and threw himself forwards to finish the fight in a last heavy blow. But Isala was quicker, and the vial crashed to the ground and danced to the side as the fog swallowed the area in an instant.

He rounded Bull in the fog before pouncing his back and pressed his blade to Bull's throat and held it steady, waiting for a reaction. Bull dropped his own blade in defeat and Isala kissed his cheek, dribbling more blood on his warrior but grinned widely. He had won and his body was in an ecstatic rush that could only come from a good fight.

"I win." He hummed to Bull's ear. "You owe me a price."

"Cheating." Bull grunted as Isala slipped down from his back.

There was voices all around from people trying to figure out what was going on, trying to see in the fog and Isala snorted as Bull was trying to reach for him in the wrong direction. He took petty on his warrior and slipped in between his arms, tiptoeing for a kiss as the fog slowly began dispatching itself and Bull wrapped both arms around him safely. 

They had fought hard, blood had been shed but they hadn't actually fought each other. He wasn't angry with Bull and Bull wasn't angry with him, they were as they had been this morning. He nuzzled his face against Bull's neck as good as he could reach and enjoyed being held close by the strong arms around him. Bull was smiling against his forehead and stroke over his lower back. 

"You feelin' better there ataashi?" Bull asked and moved a large hand to stroke through his black dreads. 

"My lip is split, my wrist sprained and I think you broke my rib. But yes, much better." He hummed happily. "Thank you. I needed that."

Bull scoffed and pulled him up from the ground and before Isala knew it the world was upside down as he had been tossed like a sack of flour over Bull's shoulder. It was painful for his rib but also ridiculous and Isala couldn't suppress his laughter as he tried to find purchase for his hands to Bull's back. 

As the fog was gone enough for people to see again, Bull just began walking, ignoring any question tossed their way on who was the winner. Isala managed to find holding against Bull's belt and looked up to see Krem who smiled amused and did a thumbs up as Varric handed him money. Isala snickered as he just hung limp over Bull's shoulder again, decided just to enjoy the ride to the infirmary and the healers. 


	40. Kitty's collar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bull gives Isala a gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Spoilers for Jaws of Hakkon. If you don't want the spoilers for Jaws of Hakkon do NOT read the part of Isala in Seheron. 
> 
> Maybe you've all read or played it by now but I just figured in case someone hasn't.

**9:41 Dragon -Skyhold-**

"I've got something for you." 

Isala hummed, tiredly lifting his head from the comfortable pillows where he had kept it while half snoozing to look at Bull. They were both in Isala's bed, having taken a midday break after the healers had fixed them up from their rather intense sparring session. Said sparring session had inspired to a very nice midday break where Isala had been riding the Bull and was now pleasantly sore from other reasons than the fight.

"If it's your cock, I need ten minutes break." Isala yawned, dropping his head back in the pillows with a soft happy sound that mostly came from the dragon.

It was nice that the dragon was as sated as he was. He supposed some of that need to lash out in a fight came directly from the dragon nature, he certainly hadn't had that urge before Seheron. But again, slaves weren't actually allowed to want anything so it could be either of the reasons, he didn't actually care right now, he was too comfortable and felt too much like a puddle to care.

Bull laughed and kissed a few kisses over his back along his spine before getting up from the bed to get whatever it was that he had for him. Isala tilted his head to follow Bull with his eyes, trying to get a good view of what it was. Maybe he should have been more specific that if it was anything that went up his ass he needed a ten minutes break, but Bull didn't grab the bag he had his toys in but instead went for his pants again.

Isala had to admit his curiosity was peeked as to what Bull was up to. The warrior dug around in his pants for a while before he came back and sat down on the bed again. Isala shifted to look at him but squeaked when Bull simply pulled him up into his lap. Not that Isala protested it, just cuddled up against his naked warrior and looked at the box Bull held in front of his eyes.  

"Found it last time we were in Val Royeaux." Bull said and kissed on his dreads as he opened the box. "Couldn't stop thinking of you wearing it."  

Isala looked in the box curiously, it was a dark almost black leather collar with a plush dark velvet on the inside. The leather had small golden details on it and when Isala got a better look they were neatly designed runes. He recognized several of those runes as protective runes that he himself had etched into all of his belts as a last protection. 

The collar had a small pendant hanging from the front, a black diamond held on place by intricate forged dawnstone and Isala smiled slightly amused. He'd seen high ranking women in Tevinter wear those as a sign of wealth, some even wore enchanted gems that provided extra strength to their magic. In Orlais he had only seen them on cats. 

He could have taken it as an insult, it could possibly even have pissed him off. Anyone else and it would have pissed him off. From Bull, it was amusing and to be honest a bit cute. He'd lie if he said he didn't like the idea of owning one, or if he claimed the idea of involving it in a bedroom game wasn't hot. Which he guessed this collar was meant for. 

He could imagine Bull being in full control over him, he could imagine riding Bull while facing away to give Bull a good view and Bull tugging the collar if he got to quick... Isala quickly pushed those thought aside or he'd be hard again any second now. 

Then it hit him, the golden runes carved into the collar wasn't just a pretty replica of the protective runes he had on his belts, these were runes of protection, probably working ones. Bull had an irrational fear that he would go rogue and kill him while they slept now that he was Vashoth. The collar could be a last defense against Bull if it was needed in the middle of the night when they were alone. 

Isala shifted around until he could face his nervous looking warrior. There was a thousand ways he could take this the wrong way and he was certain Bull knew each and every one of those ways. That bull had given thought to each and every possible outcome, evaluated the risks and decided it was worth it.

"A kitty's collar?" He purred and put his fingers to Bull's chest. "Gonna try it on me? Then maybe give me a treat for being a good kitty?" He asked and leaned up, nipping at Bull's stubble over his jaw.

"I think you're more of a dragon." Bull said with a relieved grin. "But I reward dragons even better than I do kittens." The warrior growled by his ear.

Isala felt his need rise and cock twitch by Bull's words and eagerly tilted his head to provide his neck for Bull. The warrior easily clasped the collar on place with the gold buckle and adjusted it until it sat comfortably tight but still with enough room to fit one of Bull's fingers under it. Isala hummed and smiled widely as he could feel the vibrations of his own voice hum against the velvet. 

With a tug to the black diamond pendant Bull pulled him into a kiss before Isala found himself on his hands and knees. Bull worked him straight back into the puddle he had been before he got his new gift. Isala couldn't help himself as he came a lot more fast than he'd usually come as Bull tugged in his new collar. 

Bull always did give him the best rewards. 

* * *

**9:36 Dragon -Seheron-**

The campfire was crackling merrily in their little camp. Orchid was cooking a couple of nugs, Rowena was sitting carving something from a little rock, Keelah was telling a story about the fog warriors, Septimus was asleep with his head on Teneks lap while Tenek was trying to sharpen his blade without waking the napping elf up. It was a usual sight in their little camp 

Isala was laying splayed out on a tree branch high above the others. His leg was slung over the edge of the the thick branch under his back while the other leg was lazily folded and his foot rested on the rough bark. His toes playing lazily with the texture of bark and moss of the branch. 

He enjoyed the feeling of bark to his skin, the bite of it to his back reminded him that he was free and that this wasn't just some blissful dream that he'd be woken up from. Sometimes it was hard to believe the world around him was real, it was hard to imagine he wasn't in Minrathous stuck in his old masters closet for having failed some trivial task, just dreaming this life up.  **"You are not. You are free."** The dragon reminded him and Isala smiled.

The stars above his head shone bright this night, as they would any cloud free night and the huge moon felt like it was only a jump away. It was beautiful in a way that felt unreal, in a way that felt almost painful. All those bright glowing stars, something greater upon the sky and he wished he knew what they actually were. 

Orchid had taught him about the stars and their names, Tenek had told stories that he himself and Orchid had been taught as a children by the tamassrans. The dragon had other stories about the stars, other names, other tales and Isala loved them as much as he loved Tenek's. But still, he wondered what they actually were made of, as much as he loved the stories of heroes becoming star images, he doubted them. 

Isala loved to listen, loved to learn new things. Whenever any of them would tell him or teach him something new he would listen and learn. Tenek and Orchid had taught him of the Qun, taught him Qunlat and the systems. Keelah had taught him the way of the fog warriors and it's history. Rowena had taught him of the life in Orzamar and their language. Septimus and him had shared Tevene and he still enjoyed listening to Tevinter tales that he hadn't heard as they came from different parts of Tevinter. 

But there was something special about listening to a dragon who had been around for hundreds of years and seen the tales with his own eyes. His dragon had tales about the lands, about changes, about the past blights, about the expansion of Orlais, about the grey wardens. The dragon had told him the tale of Inquisitor Ameridan, an elven dragon hunter every dragon had known to stay clear of. Only the arrogant would face him in battle and fall for their arrogance. 

The dragon would tell about the destruction of the Dales, he had spent a brief time there to watch it fall before he had moved on. He had watched the war between Tevinter and Par Vollen, stayed on Seheron since the conflict had provided him with easy prey. 

Isala didn't have many tales to share himself but the dragon was content in telling and showing. Allowing Isala to be flooded by images of a past age, living it as the dragon had. He had seen lands that looked so different now, seen glimpses and heard vivid tales about people who were now legends. Isala loved when the dragon allowed him to dip into it's memories to find out about the past and the dragon never seemed to minded sharing.

Sometimes he would fear waking up and find this a dream but after little over three years, he still hadn't woken up.


	41. Orlesian Boot camp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isala and Cassandra figures out what happened to the seekers and Josephine put's her foot down.

**9:41 Dragon -Skyhold-**

Isala had managed to postpone his next meeting with the tailor and Josephine, as information had come about where the seekers of truth most likely would be. Cassandra had asked him if they could find out why they had seen no seekers among the templars some weeks earlier and not even Josephine could deny that it would benefit them all to find out what the seekers were up to now that they actually had a lead

So, Isala, Cassandra, Bull and Vivienne had headed off to Caer Oswin. They had encountered the order of the firey promise along with several dead seekers. The worst had been Daniel, a young seeker that Cassandra had taught herself. The lord seeker had done something, fed him something and there was a demon inside of his body, not a possession, only a slow death. The only thing they could do was to put him to a quick end. 

When they found the lord seeker the man prattled on about how the seekers were the ones who destroyed the world and nothing could be built anew unless it all ended first. He even offered Cassandra to look in the book of the seekers as proof. But anyone could see that the man was mad and after all he had done to his own order... it didn't feel wrong to kill him. 

On their ride back to Skyhold Cassandra had been silent, reading the book and Isala hadn't prodded. Everyone handled grief differently and Cassandra wasn't ready to have hers prodded, not yet. 

The time didn't come until the day he found her in the loft above the smithy one morning. The book was laying at the table as she sat and just watched it. Isala had joined her by the table and she had told him about how the mage war had begun. The discovery of the fact that tranquility could be reversed after what had happened in Kirkwall, there had been deaths to hush it all down. 

But as it turned out, the seekers of Truth had always know about the rite, they had known it from the beginning, from the first inquisition. The vigil the seekers took before they became seekers, that was them being made tranquil until a spirit touched their minds and brought them back. 

Isala wasn't certain what to say about that. Tevinter only used the rite in very rare occasions but he had understood how often it had been abused and misused here in the south. He told her they should go out with the information, every tranquil deserved the choice to have their lives back. Mages were people, just like any other person in the world, just because they had powers didn't mean that they were all bound to abuse that magic. 

They had agreed on that they would find out the risks before trying it on anyone, they needed to understand what would happen after years without emotions and suddenly be filled of them again. But it wouldn't be swept under the carpet again, the mages deserved better. 

Cassandra had her doubts on whether the seekers even deserved to be rebuilt or not. Isala hadn't been able to give her any answers. He had told her to listen to her heart, and if she rebuilt it, there would need to be improvements. Big improvements. Cassandra had agreed, if the seekers would be rebuilt there couldn't be any secrets among the order, every seeker should read the book and know the wrong of the past. 

After a long chat the two of them was told by a messenger that a war meeting was called for, a meeting that required both the inquisitor and the seeker to be present. So, together they left to the war room, to find out what was the matter. 

However the closer they got the more suspicious Isala got. Cassandra didn't really come to the war meetings anymore, she had in Haven but never really in Skyhold. Either this was an actual meeting or it was an ambush from Josephine's side. Or he supposed this could also be about the bucket him and Sera had trapped the door with the other day... but that didn't explain why Cassandra was coming with him. 

When he stepped into Josephine's office he had his suspicions confirmed as Josephine, Leliana and Vivienne were all in her office, along with the rest of his inner circle. Cullen looked like a kicked puppy as Vivienne was scolding him about his dancing skills while Bull was standing entirely still as the tailor was taking his sizes for his new formal wear. Josephine must have decided that today was the day for them all to get respectable for Halamshiral. 

"Inquisitor. How good of you to come. You too Cassandra." Josephine said with a dangerous smile. "And no! Don't you think about escaping, either of you. I will have the doors magically sealed if I must." She warned them as Isala had taken a slow step backwards and Cassandra had done the same. 

"I'll kill Corypheus for making me wear formal wear." Isala huffed and stiffly walked more into the room. He stared at the red fabric that Bull was being fitted into and crossed his arms. "No. I am perhaps not a noble but I have standards. I'll not wear something like that." He growled. 

He hated being dressed up. He hated people telling him to put fancy clothes on just too please the nobles. It made him feel sick and the need to make another tattoo or another piercing just to prove he was his own person was itching in his skin by just the thought. Maybe he'd tattoo a couple of lines over his chest, or at his hands.

"I agree, I already have my own clothes." Dorian said cheery. "You won't see me in those dreadful things." 

"Willing to share? I'll trade you my commander." Isala said and nodded towards Cullen with a sly smile.

"You can't just barter me off!" Cullen protested and Dorian laughed hearty. 

"My, my. I might just be so inclined to share my wardrobe with you for that." Dorian said playfully and Isala snorted amused. 

Josephine groaned loudly and mumbled in Antivan about ridiculous Tevinters and Isala smiled amused at her. He wondered if she knew that he spoke fluent Antivan or if she simply meant for him to hear what she had to say. Whatever the reason he wasn't given much time to wonder as she ushered him over to one of the chairs of the table that had been placed in the room where Sera was practicing small talk with another elf.

He hand't noticed the other black haired elf in the room until now, he hadn't spoken to his father since the day they had first met but he had to admit he wasn't as opposed to the idea now as he had been then.

Apparently the elder elf was there to teach them manners, and of what to speak about with nobles, why on earth Josephine had decided that his father was more competent in such a situation than him he had no idea.

Well, he had some ideas, without a doubt the two had been talking and without a doubt his father hadn't decided to be difficult about things like Isala himself had decided to be. Not that Isala intended to change, he intended to continue to be difficult until people stopped trying to dictate how he should live his life.

While they sat there by the table he made  crude jokes to Sera or laughed at the things she said, entertaining himself with trying to make both the other elf and Josephine have a headache so they'd let him leave early or simply give up.

By lunchtime he sat in a chair chewing on a sandwich as he watched Vivienne trying to teach Bull how to dance. He couldn't resist smiling over how nervous Bull was around Vivienne. He had told Isala that she reminded of a tamassran once and Isala could just imagine Bull as a child trying to be good for the tamassran.He was quite certain Bull had been a cute child.

Cullen and Dorian was actually dancing quite good on their end, Dorian being the one leading and Cullen followed blindly like a puppy. Sera had somehow managed to escape the room, and the others were simply having their own sandwiches or like Blackwall, being fitted into new clothes.

"So, what's the reason for you to act as if you don't know all of this like a dance already?" A calm voice asked beside him.

Isala jumped startled as the elder elf suddenly sat in the chair beside him. He blushed slightly over having been caught in his game of pretending not to know anything of proper acting in court. He glanced at the older elf innocently. He could lie of course but...  **"Don't."** Isala rolled his eyes at the voice in his head.  _"Why not?"_ he wondered silently  **"He is trying to make contact and you wish for it. Do not push him away just to be difficult."** Isala swallowed the piece of sandwich he had been chewing before looking at the other elf who was observing the rest of his companions. 

He realized that his father was as perceptive as himself, watching, weighing, adjusting behavior patters, learning how the others worked. They had both been slaves and they were very similar in appearance, Isala had a bit softer features making him more feminine. But his father had most likely had a rough life as well living by the whims of magisters who found knife ears pretty.

"I don't like when people assume things about me." He deciding on honesty. "Or when they choose things for me, I won't dress up like a noble because it makes me uncomfortable, it reminds me of... I just don't like it." He said slowly. "I pretended I was mute for the first month or so, because they assumed I couldn't talk when I first met them." He said and smiled slightly "They didn't know where I was from, if I was a boy or a girl, what to call me. It was interesting to say the least."

"What made you change your mind?" 

"The lord seeker, well, a demon version of him, pissed me off. The first one among these people I actually spoke to was Vivienne." He said and smiled as said woman made Bull recite the dance steps aloud for her. 

"And the Qunari?" His father asked amused. "I saw your sparring, I was impressed. You know each other very well."

"We've grown close, it took time, he was a Qunari, I was a fog warrior, by default I was... reserved around him... things changed." He said and smiled slightly "He isn't Qunari anymore, Tal-Vashoth." 

It felt good, strange but good to speak to this man so casually. It wasn't uncomfortably strange, it was strange because it came so natural. Maybe it was because they looked so much alike that it felt so easy. **"Or due to the fact that he is your father."**  The dragon suggested, Isala brushed it aside.

The two elves sat silently for a moment, watching as Bull made a wrong step and Isala smiled, hiding a chuckle behind a bite of his sandwich over the look Bull gave Vivienne. It was a mix of sad puppy and terrified puppy, but a puppy nonetheless. But a thought popped up in his head and he couldn't resist asking.

"How... How did you leave Tevinter?" Isala asked carefully and glanced at the other elf.

"The blight in the south made ships going there cheep, even after the fall of the arch demon. I had managed to... obtain... coin, I had found your mother a few years earlier and I took her on a ship to Ferelden. We... you have two siblings, Theodore is twenty two, Willow is eleven. We managed to scramble together for a smaller farm, it has been left fairly untouched through this whole ordeal."

Isala whipped his head around so the dragon teeth clicked together, staring at the other man, it felt unreal to think about a life he could have had if things had been different. A sudden wish to meet these people, at least once. He wondered what they looked like, how they were like, if they were anything like him. They must have lived so different lives from himself, free from the clutches of Tevinter.  **"You could meet with them."** The dragon reminded. 

"Can I ask you the same? Or would you prefer not to tell?" 

Isala sighed quietly. He didn't want to share all of it, but he could tell the part that everyone in the inner circle knew, a lot of it was common knowledge even outside of their circle by now anyways. The tale about the dragon though, that was... It was enough that Bull knew.

"My master bought me to Seheron. I saw life wasn't what I had thought it was, realized slavery wasn't what life was supposed to be. There was a fog warrior attack and I took the chance to kill Tarsicius and his bodyguards. The Qunari wanted me converted to the Qun. A couple of fog warriors broke me out and I spent almost a decade with them before I ended up here." He said and sighed. 

"That's where you learned how to fight?" 

"I was taught the basics in Tevinter, a bit here and there, but mostly it was the fog warriors yes. They taught me how to live, not just survive. I still miss Seheron, but I doubt I will ever return there." 

"Home is where your family is. Yours, well... I am not blind, The Iron Bull would probably fight an army on his own for your sake." 

They spent the rest of their lunch in companionable silence after that until Josephine decided it was time to get back to their work. Isala continued to act as if he didn't have a clue about how to act around nobles, often copying Cullen's missteps or Sera's way of talking. The only thing he didn't argue about was the clothes, the black satin fitted to his body wasn't hideous. 

But he had other plans for his outfit. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up! The winter palace!


	42. A fog Warrior in a court of Orlesians

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isala arrives at the winter palace, and really. Josephine should know better than letting him out of her sight.

**9:41 Dragon -The Winter Palace-**

Bull was surprised that Josephine had allow Isala out of her sight. Sure they had all arrived to the palace and were safely inside and it was just a matter of minutes until they were to be introduced to the court and the empress herself. And sure Isala had behaved surprisingly good the short time they had been there, but had Bull been Josephine, he'd have kept both eyes on the wicked elf. 

Because now, the elf was gone. 

Elves actually, the elves were gone. Both Isala and Sera were gone and no one could tell when exactly that happened or where they went off to. But here they stood, in the ballroom ready to be presented and just like that, the inquisitor was gone. No matter how many time Josephine counted them or looked around there were two elves missing.

Of course Bull knew that Isala was up to something. He didn't have a clue what it was because the elf hadn't given him any indications. But whatever it was, Bull was fairly certain that this would be a night to remember and not because of the assassin that was hiding in the crowd... 

Isala and Sera had slipped off just before they were supposed to walk into the grand ballroom. It hadn't been very hard, a trick with shadows then blending in with the elven servants and suddenly they both were in a closet full of cleaning supplies. Isala holding a bag that one of Sera's friends had managed to get to them without anyone else noticing.

It didn't take Isala long to slip out of the black satin of his formal clothes and into the outfit he had picked for himself.

The leather pants were made of dark dragon skin that clung to his legs in a way that was to die for but without restricting his movements. They were more like leggings than pants but Harrit had insisted they still counted as pants because of the lacing in the front, or something like that. Isala didn't care what they were called as long as they were comfortable and looked good. 

He had his usual belts with the usual pouches on them, filled with various vials, flasks, small throwing knives and other things that might be useful at an event like this. Well, at least that's the things you brought to a Tevinter court gathering. Orlesians didn't seem to play the game as brutally as Tevinter where the night would be called a bore if there wasn't at least two or three deaths.

He wrapped his feet up in their usual foot wrappers and sighed content, he really hated boots. Boots were constricting and threw him off his balance. If there was something he had learned about survival it was to never allow yourself to loose balance. Loosing balance in Seheron meant being caught and killed in an instance. And the noble court gathering? they were as deadly as the battlefield. 

Which, was why he brought war paint. Fog warrior war paint actually. Fog warriors used a certain type of vitaar to keep them protected from lucky blows and being seen. Since he was no Qunari it had taken years until his body could handle the poison in the vitaar paint but now he could wear it effortlessly. Though today he didn't plan on cover himself in it from top to toe. 

Instead he began to paint his body in long strokes, following his's chest's built, defining muscles and suggestively dipped down into his pants. In Seheron he wouldn't have used a shirt so neither would he now. He let the white line follow up over his neck stroke it over his cheeks under the black tattoo across his face and then painted more stripes down over his arms. 

When he was content with his paint job he strapped a cord into his dreadlocks to keep the jet black dreads from his face and began tucking  colorful feathers into it. He probably couldn't look more like a fog warrior unless he put the entire palace in a thick fog and that would defeat the purpose of his entirely look. 

As a finishing touch he clasped Bull's gift around his neck. For every intake of breath, every swallow, he'd think about Bull and that would keep him calm. No matter where he went or how many nobles tried anything, Bull was protecting him, even if jut through the kitty's collar. Isala smiled and stroke over the runes over the leather before grabbing a handful of feathers from the bag for Sera's hair.

"You know she'll kill y'right?" Sera asked and grinned while Isala was tying feathers into her hair to match. 

"I know, I'm taking you with me in the fall." he teased her fondly. 

"I like this, it'll show the little people you are like them, ain't pish poshy noble a'ight?" She said and nudged him gently. 

Isala chuckled lightly as he fastened the last feather. "Yeah I'm no noble Sera. Did your people do the changes?" He asked and backed a step to inspect Sera's hair in the half dark of the supply closet.

Sera grinned and nodded eagerly. "Yeah, S'all fixed!" She assured. 

"Well, let's do this then and have fun because Josephine might actually kill us when we come back to Skyhold." He said with a laugh. 

Sera slipped away with a giggle and Isala brushed carefully over the paint to make sure it was dry before he slipped out into the empty hall. They had been in the Winter Palace for about half an hour and Isala had already been called knife ear, rabbit and savage, no matter if he was dressed up in his fancy clothes. So if people were talking after this about him being one of those things, Josephine couldn't blame it on his clothes. 

Yet so far everyone in Orlais seemed to rate elves the same way Magisters rated them. The only difference was that Orlesians didn't have the elves enslaved and thus had to be more careful about their words. Gaspard had been blunt enough. The Grand Duke had told him that the elves were up to something and from the sound of it, Gaspard had already decided that all elves were guilty for well, everything. 

It had pissed Isala off and he had been forced to keep himself from breaking the stupid human's face. Luckily, he had been taught not to let any emotions show, no matter how angry he got, he could always smile and make people believe in the smile. It was however clear that he was only there for Gaspard to benefit from being seen with the inquisition, nothing more. 

His companions were already in the ballroom along with most other guests. Gaspard was awaiting him by the doors and Isala walked towards the human with easy steps. He was fully aware that Gaspard was watching him underneath his mask and instead of sneering there was a light chuckle from the Grand Duke. 

"Oh it will be good to see their faces. I must admit, had I known, I would have picked my armor as well."  The human said with a hard smile. 

"I never go into battle without armor. It would be foolish." Isala replied calmly. "It would be an invitation to put a knife in my back." 

"You have played the game before I take it?" Gaspard asked and Isala only heard the surprise because he was taught to hear it. 

He smiled at the other man, an intimidating smile that showed a little bit too much sharp teeth but instead of answering the question he motioned for the door. Isala was a player, and a player never showed his cards, not even to their allies. 

Gaspard caught the hint and together they walked into the ballroom. Isala let his body language shift, regal but relaxed, soft to touch but deadly like a sharpened dagger. It was all in how one moved, smiled, talked and acted, every detail, every step would be weighed, measured and judged by the participants in the game and within the next minutes, he would be deemed what sort of player he was.

His advisers were ready to be presented one small flight of stairs down while his inner circle stood in waiting on the main floor. Isala payed them no mind. Those were not his opponents, his opponents were everyone else in this room,  from the servants to the empress herself. He would however have liked to seen Josephine's face as she undoubtedly would think that this would be their doom.  

"And now presenting. Grand duke Gaspard De Chalons."

The steward called out and Gaspard bowed before moving down the second flight of stairs to move through the room in a slow pace. Isala observed him, a man of war indeed, but he had his flaws. He worked hardest with his right hand no doubt, if there was a fight Isala would use this knowledge. 

"And accompanying him..." There was a slight hesitance and Isala realized this was where Sera's friends had added on the paper and he smiled a confident smile, flashing his white teeth and held his head high and his back straight as he stepped down the stairs with the grace of a jungle cat. "Inquisitor Isala Shadow, veteran warrior of a free Seheron."

Isala bowed in the same grace as he walked before he strode through the room in a slow lazy pace, making a display worthy of his clothes. He heard a lot of people gasp and the murmurs of quick quiet gossip. Gaspard chuckled lightly and Isala was amazed he had survived in the game this long but didn't waver in his own calm. He even managed to keep himself from breaking out laughing over Sera's introduction as: _"Her Ladyship Mai Bhalsych of Korse."_  

When the two reached the empress, Gaspard did a ridiculous impression of a bow before pushing the empress's pleasantries aside in favor of going bluntly at the fact that they had business. Celene being the politician she was easily dismissed his rudeness and Gaspard bowed again in his ridiculous manner before leaving and turning all attention between him and Celene. 

Isala didn't like to be the one who everyone looked at, he didn't like being seen, but he still knew how to act in such situation. He bowed deeply but not as deep as he would for a master, he bowed as someone would an equal because never again would he see anyone otherwise. Celene returned the gesture with a small curtsy herself while keeping her hands by the height of her stomach. A point of power. 

"Lord Inquisitor, we welcome you to the winter palace." 

The empress introduced him to her the Grand Duchess of Lydes, apparently a woman who'm had part in planning this event. There was something about that woman, the way she held herself, the way she didn't seem to have known about the inquisition to be there. Isala made a mental note to find out more about her. In a place like this, it was hard to figure out which lies were dangerous and which were just trivialities.

"Your arrival at court is like a cool wind on a summer's day." Celene said with her soft voice.

"I am delighted to be here your majesty. Surely it would have been an event sad to miss." 

"We have heard much of your exploits, inquisitor. They have made grand tales for long evenings." She said calmly "How do you find Halamshiral?" And there was the test. The question to see if Isala would be a player or not. 

"I have seen courts only of the imperium. I must say nothing within Tevinter could possibly be equivalent with Halamshiral, it is a beauty that can only be matched by the grace of it's ruler." He said with his most charming smile. 

There was a slight pull to her lips even if the expression was mostly hidden behind her mask. But Isala knew it had been a good enough impression for her and for the people around who was looking at him with sudden interest and surprise, a knife ear as well spoken as any of them was a shock as much here as Tevinter it seemed. 

"You flatter us inquisitor. Your modesty does you credit, and it speaks well for your inquisition. We hope you will have time to take in some of it's beauty. Feel free to enjoy the pleasures of the ballroom. We look forwards to watching you dance."

Isala smiled a charming smile to her and bowed yet again. This would be easier than he had thought. 


	43. The commander and his suitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen has attracted some close up types. Isala doesn't approve.

**9:41 Dragon -The Winter Palace-**

"Did you just... Grab my bottom!" 

"I'm a weak man commander." 

Isala had very silently and very subtly been chewed out about his little stunt with his clothes by Josephine. To be honest his rescue had been Josephine's younger sister, Yvette, who had been interrupting Josephine's scolding with vivid questions about the most odd rumors Isala had heard. Also that noble woman who had begged him to tell her about the rumors about him and dragons.

He had told her some wild tale before directing her to Varric in the lower garden because the story teller would be able to tell her the tales much better than he could. But he assured her all she had heard, all true. She had gasped and hurried away delighted with two of her friends. Isala had smirked and shook his head, being a dragon slayer would remind people of the last inquisitor, if he was lucky, it'd scare off people who wanted to fight him.

He had been on his way to ask Vivienne what she knew of the Grand Duchess, because he still thought she was a bit... odd. But on the way he had passed Cullen and his admirers and heard the exchange and he hadn't liked it one bit. He had been on Cullen's side of that exchange, powerless to do anything back from the offending crowd.

He had noticed even across the room as he had spoken to Josephine that Cullen hadn't been comfortable. He had asked her of it and she had brushed it off. Leliana had been in the same state of mind, Cullen was a big boy and could handle himself, that it was quite amusing to watch. The two women knew the game as good as Isala did and usually it would be amusing to watch some Fereldan fail miserably at playing the game. 

But not when the game was sexual harassment against a man who so clearly wasn't comfortable with it. Isala had seen how Cullen blushed and stuttered around Dorian as the altus teased and flirted mercilessly. But that was different. When Dorian teased  him, Cullen would blush and stutter, he would go wide eyed and try to flee to his reports, but his shoulders would be lift and there would be the slightest curl of lips that tugged in his scar. The small things that told that Cullen didn't actually mind the flirt. 

Now, Cullen looked like he might be sick and Isala noted the slight trembling in Cullen's fingers where they were curled by his sides. There was no way Isala'd let any of his people be so uncomfortable, he was protective of his friends and his family and Cullen was part of that family now. He had been for quite some time. 

"Commander, walk with me." He said with a confident smile. "I fear I need the good commander elsewhere, if you are interested of impressive tales messere Tethras is in the lower gardens." He said polite but with no room for question. 

One of the Orlesian women pouted like a five year old and was about to complain but Isala just smiled and began walking with a little wave of his hand to get Cullen to follow him. He didn't look back to make sure the commander did, but the sound of boots following him was enough to tell him that he was until Cullen caught up and walked by his side. 

When they passed Vivienne he gave her a small nod and a smile. Vivienne smiled in reply, an entire conversation held in two smiles and the enchantress moved royally to distract the nobles while Isala walked Cullen out the other direction and out of the ballroom. Cullen looked like he wanted to ask what was going on but Isala just gently nudged the blond along and easily pulled the man into an empty room. 

It wasn't a large room, just a sitting room with two couches, a table and some candles and Isala guided Cullen to one of the couches and the blond sank down without complaint or argue. Cullen rested his elbows to his knees and his face in his hands as he took a deep breath, most likely to try calming himself down. 

However amusing it was to see people who didn't play the game fail miserably, it wasn't amusing when they broke down this bad about it. And it was painfully clear that something was wrong, other than Cullen simply feeling a bit lost.

Isala crouched down in front of Cullen and offered a glass of something sparkly he had nabbed on the way out. Cullen needed something to drink and possibly some food. Since they just had one of the things it would have to do. Unless Cullen wanted to chew on some dried elfroot Isala had in one of his pouches, but they didn't need the commander high. 

"Here, drink. You will feel better." Isala offered calmly. 

Cullen took the glass and sipped it with a silent sight. Isala didn't press Cullen to talk, that could wait, his reputation and the game could wait. Pressing Cullen to tell him wouldn't help Cullen and wouldn't get them out there any faster. So instead they just of sat there, Cullen sipping his drink and Isala crouched down in front of him with one hand to his knee to assure Cullen he wasn't alone in this. 

"How do you do this so effortlessly? In Skyhold you were as terrible as me." Cullen finally sighed. "And you aren't even wearing a shirt, don't you get tired of people touching you?"

"At Skyhold I was simply being difficult because Josephine was forcing me. I grew up in Tevinter, my masters taught me how to act properly in court, they found it amusing to put me against their opponents, an elven slave able to work in a high society gathering." He said calmly to Cullen. "Even if not, the best players of the games are the ones who has spent their lives watching it. Slaves and servants watch from the shadows and the good ones learn."

"The bad ones?"

Isala was aware that Cullen only asked because he needed a distraction from his own minds. Though, perhaps this wasn't a very good subject to ease the poor commander's mind. It was still something Isala wished to forget himself. But they were here now, no reason to lie about it.

"The bad ones got beaten, deprived of food, deprived of sleep, or left in the dark alone for several days as punishment." Isala said and swallowed hard. 

"Makers breath! Did that.. I mean... you?" Cullen stared at him in horror as he stumbled over his words.

"I was a very clumsy child. Better leave it at that." He said with a forced calm. "How are you feeling?" 

"Terrible. After Kinloch... sometimes touches or.. flirts can be hard when they are uninvited." Cullen admitted, twirling his empty glass between his fingers. "I should be used to this, Dorian does it all the time but..."

"It is different when it comes from the ones we care of." Isala provided with a smile. 

Cullen nodded and sighed deeply before asking; "Josephine will be upset if we don't go back won't she?"

"Don't worry about Josephine. I am going to ask you to remain in the garden rest of the evening. There is a Tevinter Altus there I would like you to keep your eyes on." Isala said with a cheeky smile. "I think he's up to something." 

Cullen stared at him then actually chuckled lightly and shook his head with a fond smile. But the relief was hard to miss, even if Isala hadn't been taught to see it he still would have. Cullen was embarrassingly easy to read at time, he could see why Dorian liked him. 

They sat for a while longer before they made their way out to the gardens. Isala spent only a brief time with Cullen and Dorian before he slipped away silently to get a better look at the library upstairs. If there was an assassin among the people there, he would find evidence for it before beginning to draw conclusions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I didn't like how we couldn't tell the people off in the game because clearly Cullen is uncomfortable. Leliana and Josephine even teases him about it afterwards. 
> 
> Sooo, Isala to the rescue!


	44. A dance?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bull brightens Isala's day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings apply to the Minrathous part of the chapter. You have been warned.

**9:41 Dragon -The Winter Palace-**

Occult advisers, nobles getting too close, hushed whispers among the servants of news about Haven, the whole servants quarter full of dead elves and ambassador Briala coming to the rescue. This was all getting more than Isala had bargained for and he was getting more and more snappy for every stupidity thrown in his direction. 

He nearly lost his focus on his role in the game when yet another noble called him rabbit. He managed to reel in his emotions the last second, thinking how it would only prove them right if he lashed out. So instead, he did what a good little elf was meant to, clenched hard to the glass he was holding before stalking off with agitated steps without voicing his opinions. 

"Everything okay Kadan?" 

Isala jumped slightly and looked up at Bull, realizing he had walked straight to his large warrior instead of the ballroom  that he had planned on. He sighed deeply and deflated just the slightest as he put the glass down on the table beside Bull and crossed his arms tightly over his white painted chest.

"Not even Tevinter calls us rabbits." He huffed. "Pet, knife ear, toy, play thing, pretty thing, slave. Take your pick. But rabbit? Ugh! I want this city to burn, taking Orlais down with it." Isala grumbled annoyed

Bull chuckled lightly where he leaned to the wall, watching as Isala glared down at Bull's boots as if they were offending him somehow. Well, he would prefer Bull naked and inside of him hot and heavy, but he couldn't have everything. He yipped surprised when Bull tugged to the pendant in his collar making Isala stumble forwards with a slight blush. But it did push other things away and Isala soon smiled cheeky again. 

Bull hadn't said anything about his outfit and Isala had been mildly disappointed over that. He'd have figured Bull might not like it that much as it reminded about Seheron and the fog warriors, but at least Bull usually gave some kind of comment whenever Isala was shirtless. He had given up the idea that Bull would say anything about it tonight though.

Until now that was. Bull's eye was dark and the quirk of his lips said everything without having to say actual words and Isala gave up a small content hum. The Orlesians and their stupidity was washed away, the only important thing in entire Thedas was right here in front of him.

"Saving me a dance for later?" He purred out to tease his warrior.

Isala reached his hand to rest over Bull's as the ex-Qunari was still touching the black diamond pendant, pulling just enough for Isala to feel it but not enough to pull him forwards. He trailed his smaller fingers playfully over the skin of Bull's hand then slipped a finger in under the sleeve of the red shirt Bull was wearing. For Isala's reputation, this wouldn't look the best if anyone saw them, but he didn't care. 

"Oh, shit, the nobles would love that." Bull chuckled. "Can you imagine Josephine's face trying to explain that we were... wait, were you serious?"

Isala couldn't help it, he was a tease especially around Bull. So, he arched his brows in confusion as if he didn't understand what Bull was on about, as if he had actually asked for a dance and nothing more. Not that a dance would be proper either and Josephine would be forced to battle the rumors for months no doubt. The inquisitor and a Qunari dancing. That would make gossip horrendous.

Not that Isala cared, it would be the truth since him and Bull actually were involved and Isala intended to keep it that way. He could never be ashamed of his relationship with the horned warrior. Speaking of which, Bull actually looked hesitant.

"Because if so, then, yeah, absolutely. I mean, once we stop the assassin and all that." Isala snorted amused and grinned widely and Bull groaned. "You sly dog! Go and find the damn assassin, now I feel for dancing!"

Bull gently shoved Isala away while grumbling and the elf couldn't resist chuckling as he left. Bull made everything better.

* * *

**9:26 -Dragon- Minrathous**

The thing about being locked in a closet without more food than some bread and water to last him through a week, was how easy it was to loose sense of everything alone in the dark. For thirteen year old children it was the source of forgetting everything about themselves, all they could think of would be how they had failed their masters and how not to do it again. 

For him, it was so usual by now that he knew exactly how to divide his food and ransom it out to not go too hungry. He had learned how much time passed around him by how much food he had left and he had learned the best way of adapting his eyes to the new dark. Elves undoubtedly had it easier than humans since they could, with some effort and practice, see very well in the dark.

Of course hedidn't like the dark because it had taken so much from him over the years. _He_  wasn't sure how old he was, he didn't even know what year it was. He had lost his enthusiasm, his dreams, his joy, his name and everything that had once made him to who'm he was. The only thing he had left was his numbers, the numbers he would whisper to himself in the silence of the dark. The numbers that was all he had left, all he was.

Nine thirteen, Dragon.  

He gasped loudly as he fell out on the floor when the door to the closet opened without warning. By reflex he rolled over to sit on his knees and kept his head low close to the floor, eyes shut tight to protect from the sudden intrusion of light. He had been bad and he knew this had been a deserved punishment, anything happening to him was what he deserved, he knew that.

"Knife ear, get up and follow. You better not screw up or you'll be back, this time without food."

"Yes master." He said silently.

"A week is too good on you. You have been nothing but a pain, you are lucky you have such a fuckable face." 

He knew he wasn't meant to  answer so he just padded along behind the man. This man wasn't his real master. Just his master's personal guard, a blonde cruel man who liked to inflict pain. Whenever the blond had earned a reward his master gave him away for a night to pleasure the blond and if he didn't, well, there wasn't a no in a slaves life. No was a forbidden word belonging to the magisters.

He didn't like those time, they hurt and he always were too rough. But if he wasn't good he would be left in the dark again, or refused food, refused sleep or once, when he had screamed no, he had been choked under water for what felt like hours, up and down, just given enough air to breath between the dips. 

He shivered and forced himself not to stumble over his misused legs as he was showed into his masters large office and he kept his head bowed deeply. 

"Let us try this again shall we?" His master said calmly as he walked over with lazy steps. "If you get the steps wrong one more time I will regrettably have to take measures." 

He never took a wrong step in a dance again.


	45. A dragon at Halamshiral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Halamshiral is a beautiful place, but not everyone enjoys the view.

**9:41 Dragon -The Winter Palace-**

Isala silently looked out over the lower gardens from the balcony. Some would claim this to be the best view in all of Halamshiral, others would claim that if he watched very carefully he would see the makers work in the stars above his head. None of them would see what he saw, none of them would look out from the balcony and think of nothing but a prison.

Grand Duchess Florianne was dead, killed by his own hand after her try to kill Celene in honor of Corypheus. Celene had called for the Grand Duke's head, but Isala had told her there had been enough blood shed for one evening. The empress had accepted his words as fair and Gaspard was banished out of Orlais, never to return and reclaim his name. 

Isala also managed to reunite Celene and Briala. It had not been possible had not Celene kept her former lover's locket in the royal vault, Isala had seen the fancy door and not been able to keep himself from having a look. So the both ladies were back to their secret relationship or whatever it was they had together, Isala hadn't cared enough to figure out the details. 

The important part was that Orlais was not in chaos and in such they had stopped Corypheus' plan, and while doing so they had gained an alliance with Orlais. It had played out as well as anyone could have ever hoped for, minimum casualties, the people was happy and there was still a party inside.

Yet, Isala was itching of discomfort. 

The dance with the duchess had brought up memories he preferably would have left forgotten. The moving expertly to the rhythm of music at a dance everyone seemed to know as well as their own back pockets. Being forced to smile when he wanted nothing more than to scream and to remember how to talk when the game was still played. 

There was a reason why Seheron had fitted Isala so well. The enemies were easy to see and no one would be chatting pleasantly with him before pushing a knife into his back. Seheron had no nobles, no ballrooms, no games. It was war and he knew his place in war. 

Josephine had been delighted by the end of the evening, informed him he had been invited to other such events and how they should plan a ball of their own. A grand gala once Corypheus' was defeated. Isala had not been delighted, he felt more trapped than ever and when Morrigan had come out to speak to him he had only listened with half an ear. 

His focus laid in the small risky route that could serve as an escape route. They didn't really need him anymore did they? The breach was closed, the mark on his hand was nothing more than a throbbing memory. He could move around Thedas on his own, close the remaining rifts and let the fighting of Corypheus to the others. He was certain they could do it without him.

"Over the fence, down the window, step, step, step and I'll be free. What do you mean by you still being a slave?" 

Isala closed his eyes and sighed deeply. Cole was the last person he wanted to be in close proximity with right now. He hated when the spirit boy was digging around in his head and made him remember. Right now, right here at the winter palace, wasn't the place for him to begin screaming because his head had been unlocked as Cole tried to  _help_ him. 

"Cole please don't" He said tiredly.

"But you are hurting. You are hurting the loudest even if you are most silent. I want to..." 

Isala had closed his eyes, lost himself to the dragon in a silent ask for help. He couldn't handle Cole right now and the dragon knew it. The swap was easy, painless as always as the other took the lead away from the elf.

If the spirit boy wished, he could search in the dragon's minds but there was not much hurt in them, dragons didn't hurt in the same way as elves. Or possibly it was just harder to obtain a dragon in the way it was an elf and thus people very rarely were able to hurt dragons the way they had hurt the elf. The dragon wasn't certain. 

"You are not helping spirit. The elf is too fragile as of yet to be pulled." He said calmly. "Your will to help is commendable, but now is not the time." 

The spirit boy nodded, tilted his head curiously but then was gone. He didn't doubt the boy sincerely wished to help, it just wouldn't help his elf right now, he wasn't sure it would ever help. 

The dragon sighed and looked over the escape path Isala had followed longingly with his eyes for quite some time now. He had felt the distress the elf had felt through the evening but had been unable to do much to help. The mortals and their odd behaviors wasn't something he knew much of. All he knew was that he wished he still had his wings, what he wouldn't give to fly once again. To show Isala what it was like to fly for real, not just memories.

"They ran out of that cheese dip, asked for more and they gave me this... _look_. The Assholes. How ya doing?" 

The dragon  curled elven lips in an amused little smile. He too had grown fond of the horned man. There was something dragon like about him, it made him feel more at home, even if a few of the things him and Isala did together was questionable to say the least. But the elf never seemed to be in any distress when the Qunari tied him up and did _things_ with him. Had Isala felt distress he would have long ended what they had.

As it was now, he hadn't spoken much to The Iron Bull. He had silently observed and learned how the other man worked, but he'd have to admit he was curious about a few things on his own and this was a good opportunity to ask questions. The elf was too far hidden to even be aware Cole was gone and replaced by The Iron Bull, but he knew Isala wouldn't mind too bad.

"May I ask you something?" He asked calmly. Not certain if he should let the other know who he spoke to or not.

"Yeah sure. Shoot." The Iron Bull said as he leaned to the railing beside him.

"Why  _The_ Iron Bull. Why is there a the in front of your name?" He asked and tilted his head curiously. 

The Iron Bull chuckled amused and seemed to relax some. He watched the fabric that was a tight fit to his muscles, not too tight, just enough to be fashionable he supposed. He understood Isala's love for the race, they were large, there was a certain amount of protection to be found in someone so much larger than yourself. 

"Well, I like to have an article in front of the name, makes me sound like some dangerous thing instead of a person." The man said with a grin. 

"It makes it easier to kill if you are just the tool being wielded than if you were the one making the decisions." He said thoughtfully. "You are not a killer, not really, you only engage if others tell you to do it or if you are attacked. It is two justified reasons to kill." 

"Err, are you okay there Kadan?" The Iron Bull asked slowly. 

He looked honestly concerned and that was... warming. He approved of The Iron Bull's concern, just like he had always approved of it in the past, Isala needed someone who cared and understood, The Iron Bull was that person. 

"No, Isala is indisposed for the moment. Cole tried to help him again, we agreed it better I take it than him remembering in a palace full of nobles." He said calmly.

"Oh." They stood in silence for a while just staring out at the view. "So, he never game me a name, what do I call you?"

"Razeth. Isala mostly just call me Dragon, it was all he could grasp to say at first and after that it simply stuck with him."  

Bull nodded quietly and the dragon kept watching him curiously. There was so many emotions Isala felt for the warrior, the things _he_  felt when Bull touched and kissed the elf. It was something he could understand, something he had felt through the elf but never for himself. Just as the elf had never soared the skies and yet Razeth had provided the feeling and memory of how it felt until Isala knew it as well as himself.

He slowly shifted closer and reached his hand out to trail his fingers curiously over the red fabric of Bull's sleeve. Bull arched his brow then smiled amused, as he didn't pull away the dragon took it as an invitation and moved his hand upwards, over the bicep, the shoulder and up the skin of his neck until his hand stopped resting over the stubble of Bull's jaw. 

The simple touch had roused the elf awake and said elf was pushing the dragon to kiss. Not to swap lead but for the dragon to do it. Hesitantly he tip toed until their lips met and  strong arms wrapped around his middle. He could certainly see the appeal of this. But the ex-Qunari wasn't his so he easily slipped the lead back to the elf and contently retreated, he had wanted to try and now he had.

"Are you hiding something in your pants or are you just happy to kiss dragons?" Isala hummed teasing as he pulled his head back from the kiss with a smile. "Did you come for a dance?" 

Bull chuckled lightly and finally pulled the elf properly close to his chest. Isala hummed happily and slipped his arms around Bull's shoulders before stealing another kiss. He would never understand how Bull just made things easier by existing. But he wasn't going to complain about it either. 

"Come on, the music finally got enough of a beat to dance to. You didn't look to happy about your last dance." 

"Will you lead and end it with a kiss?" Isala asked with a smile.

"For you Kadan. Anything." 

And Bull did end with a kiss. In the middle of the ballroom, lifted up from the floor Bull had kissed him. Deep, passionate and loving. Showing Orlais they belonged together. Isala hadn't been able to stop smiling or stop enjoying himself that night, Bull made everything better. He didn't even care about the reputation he had very carefully built up all night for the sake of the game.

He didn't want more parties with nobles, unless they ended like this.


	46. A quest for the inquisitor.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A whole chunk worth of angst, torture and pain. Read with caution.

**9:32 Dragon -Par Vollen-**

The taste of metal in his mouth was hot and heavy against his tongue, it didn't bother him more than to remind him that he was annoyingly hungry. The blood dribbled down the elven chin where he sat strapped to a chair in the dim lit room. He wondered if it was supposed to be intimidating, that they hoped the fear of the dark would make him talk. 

But even in this elven body he could see perfectly in the dark. Most this dim light would do would be to make his eyes glow as they reflected the few candles of the room. What was a lot more annoying was the fact that both his arms and legs were securely tied to the chair and no matter how much he tugged and pulled, nothing really happened.

Right now he hummed silently on an ancient lullaby he had come by some ages ago, humming seemed to piss these people off. Piss people off and they get reckless. That was his plan, piss their Qunari jailers off until they did a mistake then get them both out of this place. They would have to leave Par Vollen, the elf couldn't fly but he was small enough to get into one of the hidden temples deep inside Seheron's jungles and getting onto a ship from here to there wasn't hard. 

They couldn't stay that way forever but they could stay hidden long enough for him to mend the elf back together into the person he had been. Or something similar, the elf had begun to see that life wasn't meant to be lived in slavery before they got here, but the elf hadn't even scratched the surface of true freedom and now he was broken worse than ever. 

A hard blow to his jaw pulled him from his thoughts and cut him off from his humming. Instead he let off a low growl as blood dripped down on his pants. This body was fragile and his elf had broken many months earlier, making him unable to do anything but cry and beg for it all to stop. But this body was also incredible fast on bouncing back and his own mind combined with this body would never break. 

He leaned his head back lazily and stretched out his neck as he yawned. The Qunari leaned his hip to a table and Razeth watched him lazily, as if their roles had been reversed and the Qunari was his prey. He didn't care for their mind games, keeping him from sleep, keeping him from moving, denying him food, hurting him or whatever they could come up with. For him, they were as efficient as if they had poked his usually scaled tail with a stick. 

The elf was securely hidden away in the back of his mind. Reliving memories of flying, memories of freedom. It wouldn't do good if the elf accidentally slipped out in control and surrendered them both willingly just to make it all stop. A dragon didn't break, but he knew elves did. 

"Explain what you are bas." The Qunari ordered. 

It was the usual boring question, the question these people had asked from the first day and probably would until the last. No matter that the reply would always be the same, they didn't change the question and they didn't change their ways. Neither did he. 

"Free." He said with a toothy grin. 

The Qunari looked at him for a while before walking over, grabbed the back of his chair and dragged it out of the room. He wondered what they were going to try today, maybe water, it had been a while since they had tried to use water. He leaned his head to the side and spat out some more blood on the floor. He didn't flinch when there was a shrill scream from the room the Qunari had opened and was currently dragging him into. 

His chair was twirled around to face another Qunari, a higher ranking one and he smiled at the other Qunari with his toothy grin. Why did they still believe this would work on him? Hadn't they tired of trying after so long time? There was two other people in the room, one that had screamed and the other was crying while speaking very quickly, most likely telling everything they wanted to know.

"Will you submit to the Qun?" The Qunari asked calmly. 

"How do you say no on Qunlat? You don't seem to understand my answer." He quipped easily. 

The Qunari grabbed his black hair and pressed his head down to the purple glowing mineral on the table in front of him and he screeched a loud dragon like screeching over the pain that shot through his head. He felt the mineral trying to press it's effect in through his stone walls that were erected around himself and the elf's minds. Trying to breaking through the box they were both locked into was like trying to make the entire sea follow your whim with just a thought.

When his head was pulled back he growled dangerously, bearing his sharp teeth in a furious snarl that wasn't elven. He couldn't stop the sounds and he was quite impressed the elf's lithe body could make them. But he could and they were one of the main reasons as to why he was stuck here, they wanted to know what he was. 

"Will you submit to the Qun? Tell us what we want to know and this will be over." There was compassion in the Qunari's voice.

That made him break out laughing. A mad cackling that made the other two prisoners in the room shut up and stare. Laughing was a lot better than screaming and trashing, laughing put the Qunari at a confused unease and he liked that. 

"You are wrong and all you stand for is a lie." He said and smirked. "The Qunari will never prevail."

A large hand locked around elven throat and pressed until there was no possibility of air to come through and his body was fighting to draw for more. He wasn't allowed it until his vision started to blacken out in the edges and his body was turning limp. When the fingers left, his head lulled forwards and he gasped for silent raw breaths of air, heaving his chest painfully and ignored the blood that dribbled onto his lap. 

"Will you submit to the Qun?" 

"You can't tame a dragon." He rasped out hoarsely. 

The Qunari sighed and once again his forehead was slammed against the mineral, making him shriek in agony. But never would he break, dragons didn't break. He hadn't lived for hundreds of years just to submit to blind masters.

* * *

**9:41 Dragon -The Frostback basin-**

When Isala had been informed about the request to search for inquisitor Ameridan's last resting place, Isala had jumped the chance in a heartbeat.

The Frostback Basin was a place entirely free from nobles and their games. Any Orlesian trying to play any of their silly games with the Avvar would most likely be a dead Orlesian before they even knew it themselves. A place like that was exactly what he had been needing after Halamshiral.

He was even quite fond of the Avvar, well not the Avvar who had tried to kill him in the Fellow Mires, but he occasionally had an exchange of words with skywatcher and their believes were interesting to say the least. The fact that they saw spirits as their gods but still knew that the world shown to them from these spirits was nothing more than a reflection upon a pond, stepping into the water would show hidden currents that could just as easily drown as it could provide fortune. 

But Isala was not fond of the jaws of Hakkon. 

The very first day they arrived in the area, before they had even gotten to main camp, Isala had taken a fucking arrow to his shoulder. Not just any arrows but one of those enchanted arrows that made his shoulder feel like ice and a sheen sheet of frost cover it. He was just lucky it had been the right shoulder and not the left one.

Of course, that meant they were stuck in camp until the healer there decided that he was good enough to go again. He had tried to protest but no one would have any of it and he wasn't stupid enough to just march out injured on his own into the harsh wildlife. Besides, he was fairly certain both the dragon and Bull would stop him before he had even gotten to the front gates of camp.

Which, was why he laid lazily on his back high up in  tree above camp taking a nap. He wasn't in the mood to chat so he had simply climbed up where no one could follow without risking their necks. Down below the rest of his people was chatting or doing whatever it was they usually did when they made camp. It was familiar and up here in the tree, it reminded him of Seheron.

Perhaps that's why his dreams had taken a violently bad turn as memories had resurfaced in his drowsy state. Not memories of his own, memories the dragon recalled from Par Vollen. He both saw and felt the blow the dragon had taken to his jaw, then the saar-quamek. Suddenly napping high up in a tree wasn't the best place as he jerked out of his dreams with a loud screech. 

Before he knew what happened he was falling, the air rushing past him and if he hadn't been stuck in his own head by the memories that just keep flooding him in a way neither he or the dragon could control, he'd have enjoyed it. But as it was now Isala wasn't in the shape to do other than pull his arms defensively to his body, but he wasn't defending himself from a fall but from the pain shooting through his forehead. 

The loud screech he had let out turned out to be the elf's rescue. The shrill dragon like shriek had made all three mages react and thrown up reflexive shields around them all and Bull had jumped to his feet just in time to catch the falling elf. His eye messed with distances at times but he didn't need his eye, he just needed his other senses and felt where the dragon smelling elf would end up. 

He wondered if maybe Cole had something to do with him being at the right place at the exact right time. But he didn't have time to think of it as the elf immediately was squirming and struggling to get out of his grip while screaming in a mixture of Qunlat, Common and Tevene that he'd submit, just the pain stopped. 

It pulled in his heart, rage, sorrow and fear all mixing together as he had no idea how to protect his dragon elf. His Ataashi, his Kadan. All he could do was pulling him to the ground and hold him close while trying to find Cole to make the spirit stop. Because Bull had seen this panic twice, once when Isala had been half dead after Haven and the other time when Cole had been digging in his head. 

"Crap! Cole, Cut it out! Not the time to try and fix him kid!" He said when he spotted Cole who was keeping Varric between himself and Vivienne. "Razeth, just do your thing and fix him." He growled lower to the dragon he knew was inside his elf. 

The elf let out a dangerous snarling growl among his pleas screaming. It was enough for Bull to know the dragon was most likely busting his ass off to lock down the damage. Vivienne was loudly calling Cole a demon while Solas was trying to speak calming to Cole. Cole tried to explain the elf hurt and he just wanted to help but that he had pulled the tangle wrong. 

The elf stopped screaming and replaced it with small whines and whimpers, curling up instead of trashing around, eyes closed and Bull knew he wasn't really there with them. He couldn't help this, there was no enemies he could battle to protect the elf, no bad guys he could hit to make it stop. He hated this feeling, he hated being useless and all he could think of was to mumbled quiet encouraging words to the elf.

Solas and Vivienne was having a very heated argument which drew Cassandra into it as well. Sera had shuffled closer and held one of Isala's hands and Dorian crouched down beside them using a little sparkle of magic, doing... something Bull didn't know what, but it seemed to calm the elf because the whimpers stopped and the elf almost looked peaceful. The three of them ignored the rest who were arguing about Cole being a demon or not while Isala remained out of it.

"What happened?" Dorian asked quietly "Last time I saw him like this was after Haven... but you have seen it happen more than that haven't you?" 

"The re-educators happened." Bull said and frowned. "He don't remember shit of it and whenever he does, this happen." 

"And Cole makes him remember, _to fix the hurt,_  so to say, I understand." Dorian said and nodded. 

"Is he gonna be okay?" Sera asked with a frown. "This ain't helping him, this is torture." 

Isala grunted and put a hand to his forehead. "Make them stop shouting please?" The elf mumbled. "And for fuck sake someone get me an elfroot potion before my head explodes." 

Sera jumped to her feet and began shouting at the others to shut it or she'd put arrows in all of their asses. Bull put one of his healing potions in Isala's hand and the elf downed it in one go before shivering and scrambled to a more comfortable sitting position, using Bull to lean against. Bull didn't mind it, finally he was to some kind of use as he held the elf upright. 

The others stopped their arguing even if the tension around them were so thick someone could probably cut it with a sword if they felt for it. Cole stared at Isala wide eyed in a way that screamed that he regretted what he had done. Bull knew the kid had his heart at the right place and didn't want to hurt anyone, he really just tried to help. It just didn't work on Isala. 

"I... pulled the tangles but they are so hardly knit together... I am sorry." Cole said shifting from one foot to the other. 

Those little things had gotten more and more human ever since that day in Redcliffe when Isala, Varric and Solas had looked for the thing that made some odd amulet not work. Bull honestly hadn't cared to pretend to understand it all, just that apparently Cole was more human now or something. The kid still was odd, but it was a more human like behavior, it made him easier to read. 

"I know Cole. But you can't help me, please stop trying." Isala sighed and grabbed for another health potion. "They broke me alright? Saar-quamek does that to you, it's just what it is, you can't fix it." He grunted. 

"Wait. did you say what I think you said? Because I've got experience of that shit from Kirkwall and it wasn't pretty." Varric said sounding surprised. 

Bull winced slightly because he wasn't sure having the discussion of the shit that went down to Isala in Par Vollen would be the best right now. Isala just sighed and trembled slightly in his arms. Bull felt as Isala began to play with the top of one of Bull's knives that he kept in his boots at all times. He'd have protested anyone else to touch his hidden weapons but Isala was allowed to touch anything he wanted, especially if it helped calm the elf down.

"They broke me, but now I'm free, they can't put a leash on me." The elf said like a prayer. "I don't remember much but I can tell you some." Isala remained in his lap as he told his tale, kept fiddling with Bull's clothes or his weapons and kept his head low.

If Bull wasn't certain leaving the Qun had been the right thing before this, he sure was now.


	47. Take your happiness where you can find it. The world will take the rest.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little dip into the escape from the Qunari! There isn't too much violence in this chapter and the end is fluff!

**9:33 Dragon -Par Vollen-**

Razeth awoke to the sound of people screaming just outside his cell door. It wasn't unusual though and he was ready to dismiss it for an hour or so of more sleep. It was rather rare that they allowed him to sleep on the cot on the floor instead of sitting up, even if his hands and arms were tied behind his back the cot was still an unusual comfort and he intended to enjoy it for as long as he could. 

The day before, or if it was evening? He wasn't even sure anymore. He just knew that his previous session had been intense, no food, the only thing he'd been allowed to drink had been the water they had half drowned him in and the saar-quamek in liquid form. Little to say, he was exhausted and not in the mood to even care about the screams and shouts that didn't have anything to do with him. 

However just a few moments after he had managed to slip into an uneasy sleep he was awoken back to a loud voice barking out orders close by. Now that was a lot more interesting than just random screams from prisoners in agony. Angry voices shouting in Qunlat, orders being thrown back and forth in a military way. He couldn't hear just what was being said through the door but he understood that they were possibly under attack. 

In an instant he had pushed himself up with help of his shoulder and managed to fight himself up on his knees. This might be his chance to escape, if only someone would come into his room he might be able to slip past them and run. He just needed to find a ship that headed for Seheron and hide in some dark tight spot until they got there. 

He had barely finished that thought before the door flung open and slammed to the wall by the force. A Qunari walked in and grabbed him by the front of his rather torn shirt and dragged him up roughly to his feet. He growled dangerously but was only rewarded with a tight leather collar around his neck to prevent him from using any magic, and a black bag over his head keeping him blind from the world. 

They had figured that since he was still alive, smelled, sounded and often acted like a dragon and didn't break under their torture that he must be some kind of mage. That meant that whenever they moved him from one spot to another they kept the magic repellent collar on him to keep him from casting spells. It was ridiculous of course, he couldn't do any other magic than make sharp objects vanish into soft flesh of people. 

He growled threatening when he was lead out of his cell by the Qunari's hand grabbing the fabric of the back of his shirt. The dragon stumbled several times when the Qunari was shoving him forwards without warning him about stairs or other things that got in their way. The only time the Qunari actually warned him by yanking in his hair or shirt was when other Qunari was passing them close by. 

It was infuriating not to see anything as they made their way through the building. But he did snapped up words from passing soldiers, words like like; fog, attack, rebels and kill them all. That was interesting to say the least, he had heard about the fog warriors, he had seen a village now and then vanish in the thick fog while flying over Seheron. But he had never heard of Fog warriors at Par Vollen.

"The town square is filled of it, no one can see anything in there. We have to move him through the back alley." A voice said from his side when they pulled to a sudden halt.

"Just get him there. The Tamassrans will not be pleased if he dies." His own captor growled annoyed behind him. 

"Watch your tone arvaarad. I know the demand of the Qun and you will know your place." The first one from the side snapped back.

"I apologize." His captor said undoubtedly through clenched teeth. 

He growled himself when he was roughly pushed forwards and stumbled into someone else. This someone grabbed his shoulder instead of just grabbing his shirt or hair, a lot more gentle than the previous Qunari and guided him out through a door. The gentleness confused him but he forgot about it the second the bag was pulled off his head and sun invaded his vision before he had time to close his eyes. 

He hissed and tried to move his hands to his face but they were still tied behind his back tight as before. The Qunari however put his own hand gently over his eyes and made the angry bright light dull out comfortably while the other hand was cutting through the ropes behind his back. He didn't like how close that knife was to his back but he kept entirely still.

This person was clearly working him free and he wasn't sure if he was supposed to help, struggle or demand answers. So he just stood silently, waiting for the other to reveal what he was up to. 

"Your eyes aren't used to the sun, take it easy. Can you walk for a while longer? I'll get you out of here but I need to know if I have to carry both you and my sword." The Qunari said in a friendly but rushed tone. "We don't have much time, Orchid can only keep this up for a limited time." 

"I can walk." He grunted. "Give me a knife and I can fight too."

He was still exhausted but the adrenaline and the possibility of escaping this prison was enough for him to be ready for both running and fighting whatever needed to be fought. Why this Qunari wanted to help him didn't matter right now, he would figure that one out later when they were far away from the Qunari cells that he had spent months, possibly years in.

If it was some kind of test to see what he could do by the Qunari, he'd just kill this Qunari then run before they could stop him. If it wasn't a test, well, maybe this man could help him to a ship for Seheron. If not, they would part and he would part with gratitude. 

He groaned when the rope finally fell off his arms and he quickly rubbed his wrists before reaching up and pushed the Qunari's hand from his face. The bright light was uncomfortable but not unwelcome, he had missed the hot burning sun and hadn't seen anything for darkness and candle light for ages. 

The only problem was that he couldn't see shit even if he had his eyes open, everything around him was white. All he could see were shapes, he could see that the man who had rescued him was tall and had horns but nothing more detailed. He huffed and blinked, strained his vision as he would have done if flying through mist.

"My name is Tenek, now let's get out of here before they kill us both."

* * *

**9:41 Dragon -Skyhold-**

"Take moments of happiness where you can find them. The world will take the rest."

Ameridan's words rung through his head, over and over and Isala couldn't get them out. He had been surprised when he had realized that everyone thought that the last inquisitor had been a human. He had been even more surprised when everyone seemed to believe that the last inquisitor had been a noble and a warrior and not at all a mage. Even more surprised that history had seemed to forgot about his elven lover. 

He knew that in the past, Ameridan and Telana had been inseparable, at least according to what the dragon remembered. Then the chantry had changed him into something he wasn't and erased her from history because they had been an inconvenience to how the chantry wanted to see things. Just like they must have done so many other times.

It made him wonder, how many times it had actually happened before. How many heroes had been changed in history just because their ears were pointy or they had the wrong height. What would people say about him in the years to come? Would they flatten his ears and change his past because it was more convenient than telling the truth? 

Would they give him a noble past as some warrior who never saw hardship? 

That upset him more than if they would say he was a human. If they just brushed his past off as nothing because being a slave was inconvenient for the chantry and their pure history. It upset him to think over how probable it was that they would do just that, his life had been in slavery and there was nothing pleasant or convenient about it.

It didn't make a good story, it didn't make him a hero, it was just something dirty and messy that people didn't want to hear about because it would force them to think about it. It would make them feel like they did something wrong against elves and even if that was absolutely true, people didn't want to know the truth.

He took a deep breath and slipped down against the wall of his balcony and stared up at the stars in he dark sky. He didn't want to think about this, but he didn't know how to get it out of his head either. Whatever he did, it was a constant reminder of what inevitably would happen and he couldn't do a thing to stop it. 

He heard his door open and close down the stairs, then heavy steps, uneven as a reminder that one leg had once been injured. He smiled, just the faintest pull to the corner of his lips as Bull sank down beside him. He leaned his head against Bull's arm and sighed content. Bull was the distraction he needed, and... well he had something for the warrior that he had wanted to give for a while now.

"I've got something for you." He said and his smile widened slightly just thinking of it. 

"Oh? Got something for you too Kadan. Do you want it right here?" Bull flirted and kissed on his dreads. 

Isala laughed lightly and crawled up into Bull's lap to straddle him and leaned in for a kiss to his lips instead. Oh he could definitely _feel_  Bull's gift for him and he was tempted to accept Bull's gift before giving his own... but no, his first. It was important and he was already nervous about if maybe it wasn't going to be as successful as he hoped. 

"So, I found a book. With Qunari tales in it and I read it." He began and chewed his lower lip.

"Hm?" Bull looked at him curiously and arched a brow. "Did you like it?"

Isala nodded and grabbed for his bag that had been resting beside him. He had almost given his gift before but he had backed out the last second, now there was no return. He grabbed what he looked for and pulled out the split dragon tooth that had been remade into two necklaces, lined with dawnstone because he knew Bull loved pink and he... well, The Iron Bull was his Kadan, more important than love.

Bull just stared at him and Isala blushed looking down. So maybe it was a stupid idea to follow some childish story he had found in some book. He had liked the idea of it though, a split dragon tooth so that no matter how far away they were from each other they would still belong together. Maybe the book he had found wasn't as Qunari as he had thought, maybe it was just some Orlesian's fantasy of savage Qunari...

"It's... from the first dragon we killed together I err ah-" 

Bull had pulled him in for a searing kiss and Isala squeaked surprised over how quick the warrior had moved then melted into the kiss happily. So maybe the tooth wasn't such a bad idea. He happily wrapped his arms around Bull's neck to pull closer. In return Bull wrapped both strong arms around his middle in the way Isala enjoyed above anything else in this world. 

"Not often people surprise me Kadan." Bull mumbled to his lips. 

"I aim to please." He purred.

When Bull picked him up and carried him back inside, all thoughts about Ameridan were long gone and Isala could do nothing but take pleasure in the place it was given to him.


	48. Wicked grace and wicked toys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corypheus is up to something in the arbor wilds. The inquisition enjoys the night before the storm.

**9:41 Dragon -Skyhold-**

Isala wasn't fond of Morrigan's Eluvian.

Of course she claimed that only she knew the key to opening her creepy transportation mirror and that no one else would be able to use it. But she had figured it out hadn't she? Also, a door was a door no matter if it was locked with a special magical key or not. A skilled burglar would break into anything given enough time for it. 

Solas had pretty much confirmed his believes as well. He hadn't directly said that someone could just openly use it to move back and forth with help of it, but Isala could read between the lines. And Solas was a valued friend, he would take his elven apostate's words above Morrigan's any day. 

So, as a precaution, he had two inquisition soldiers to stand on constant guard by the door to the room where the mirror stood. At least until they had found a better place for it, preferably outside of Skyhold if possible. After all, the area all around them were filled of mountains and forests, surely somewhere there was some cave they could ditch the mirror in.

Soon after the triumph in Halamshiral Corypheus made his next move. He had zeroed in on the arbor wilds, searching for what Morrigan believed to be another Eluvian. She claimed that some of the old elven mirrors could, with enough magic and skill, lead into the fade and thus grant Corypheus what he wanted. 

Isala who had just spent a week in Emprise du Lion (had a slaying party with Bull taking down two of the three dragons there.) And then searched for Samson's tranquil Maddox, had decided that they'd do best in waiting a few days to take up the pursuit of Corypheus to let Dagna finish her research. It was rather likely  that they would find Samson on the front line of the army and if his armor were as powerful as Isala had understood it to be, they didn't want to go face to face with him without hearing with Dagna if there was something they could do about it. 

So, what was the dragon-elf up to while he waited for a certain dwarf to get done? 

Well, first him and Leliana took a lovely horse ride to Velance. The divine had left Leliana something there and she had asked him to come. Now Isala wasn't religious, not since he joined with the dragon and his world had changed. But he knew this was important for Leliana, not only because the divine had been seemed holy but because the divine and Leliana had been friends. 

At the cloister in Velance they had met with a revered mother, Natalie who had once been a friend of Leliana. Of course the woman was a backstabbing traitor who only wanted what the divine had left behind. Leilana had been ready to kill the woman for it but Isala had stopped her. Natalie hadn't tried to kill them nor was she in any kind of way an actual threat to them. 

Later when they had returned to Skyhold Leliana had thanked him for stopping her. She seemed... different. Lighter somehow, more happy and calm than he had seen her before and he realized that point had been a turning point in her life. He liked this Leliana, she was a lot more softer in the edges than she had been before. The dragon inside approved of this change as well. 

Later the same evening, Varric had managed to wrangle them all together into a  big wicked grace evening. Isala was impressed that not only had Varric managed to drag Cullen to the evening but also Leliana, Vivienne and Solas. It was a bit tight on space but Isala helped that by occupying Bull's lap instead of a chair of his own and happily shared cards with his horned warrior. 

The only problem he had this evening, (and it wasn't even an actual problem) was every time Bull moved. Because that made Isala move and every time _he_  moved, the gift he had for Bull up his ass would move and that toy rubbed up inside him in a way that made him want to whine and beg for Bull to put something larger and longer in it's place. 

But that would have to wait until later, right now, Cullen was telling them a story from his time in Kinloch, before the whole demon thing happened. The table broke out laughing at the silly story and the round was won by Varric. Isala decided to steal Bull's drink as a comfort prize. Of course his ex-Qunari being an ex-Qunari meant that his drink wasn't just the swill from Talbot but instead Isala had a mouth full of maraas-lok.

He coughed and let out a growl as the dragon at once woke up to the fire water running down his throat.  **"More."** The dragon immediately demanded and Isala grinned. After all, they might die in the arbor wilds, he might as well make the best of this night and get drunk. So, he easily took another deep swig of the drink and Bull laughed, kissing his shoulder. 

"Alright! Come on snapdragon tell us a story before you get too drunk." The dwarf said with a laugh. "We are all dying to hear about your past."

Isala hummed happily and leaned back against Bull. He had a few stories he could share he supposed, a few stories that wasn't pain because most of his years with the fog warriors had been good. Him and his old kith had done more stupid things during the years than just been at war. He contemplated which one he'd pick then nodded agreeing.

"Alright, I've got one for you." He said and shifted slightly. "There was this village in Seheron, neutral in the war that didn't mind Vints, Tal-Vashoth, Qunari or Fog warriors.-"

 Isala told them the wild tale about him and Septimus and a very stupid bet. Bull poured up more of his crazy drink and Isala stole sips here and there from it while telling his tale and by the end of it, he had to admit he was a little tipsy. 

"We ran out of the village in nothing more than our underwear, six pissed beresaad at our tails and didn't stop until we found a cave to hide in in the deep jungle! That was the absolute last time either of us measured our cocks behind a Qunari outpost ever again." He said with a smug grin. 

The entire table broke out laughing and Isala happily finished Bull's half finished glass and nearly choked on it when Bull's hand discretely ended up over his hard cock. The Qunari just grinned and stole a kiss as he squeezed through the fabric with a sinful precision that should be illegal. 

"You don't mind if I steal that one do you?' Varric asked with a laugh.

"That is... that would ruin the reputation of the inquisition if it ever came out." Josephine said but smiled in glee. "Tell it again?" 

"As inquisitor, I say we need more drinks!" Isala said happily.

"I'll go and get them, don't start without me." Cullen said and got up with a chuckle. 

Dorian hummed and looked at the commanders backside appreciatively as the blond left. Isala squeaked when Bull squeezed him through his pants one more time and shifted his knee upwards. Isala wondered if Bull knew about his little secret because the movement made the toy rub up against his spot teasingly but not enough to be satisfying and Isala had to bite his lower lip not to moan out loud. 

When Cullen came back they played two more rounds before Cullen had lost his clothes. The commander did try to hide his nakedness by sitting closer to Dorian but Dorian provided no help other than an appreciative grin. Josephine was smiling smugly over having won yet again and Isala was drunkenly giggling over Cullen's bad luck.

"Never bet against Antivans." He said through giggles. "Antiva and Rivaini. I lost my shirt to a Rivaini pirate once, she turned it into a sash."

That's when Bull decided that was a good time to call it a night and easily lifted Isala and threw the elf over his shoulder. Isala caught Cullen's naked escape and saw Dorian follow the commander. The others seemed to get ready to leave as well so he wasn't unhappy over the night to be over. After all, Bull was carrying him to bed, hopefully meant that _their_  night wasn't over at all.

"Bull!" He whined. "Hurry up or I will come without you." He snickered when they were alone.

He grabbed for Bull's ass while Bull was carrying him up for the stairs to their bedroom. Or well, his bedroom. But Bull practically lived in his bedroom with him and there was a lot of things in there that belonged to Bull so Isala saw it as their shared bedroom anyway. 

"Awh come on Kadan, do I have to tie you down for you to behave tonight?" Bull asked and slapped his ass, making Isala moan loudly. 

"Oh yes please!" Isala hummed happily and snaked one hand down into the back of Bull's pants and happily squeezed the firm ass hiding underneath the big pants. "You should walk without pants! Your ass is amazing." He purred happily.

Bull just snorted amused over his drunk elf. Isala was more than just a little tipsy, he probably should stop giving the elf maraas-lok, but he couldn't deny that drunk Isala was a very cute Isala. He got like an over excited puppy who just wanted to play and get treats. It was a bit more difficult to make sure that drunk partners were comfortable in sex, but he had learned how the dragon elf mostly worked by now. 

Besides, the first time Isala had gotten drunk out of his minds had been the first night Isala had been comfortable enough to share the bed with him for the entire night. So, from past experience, alcohol didn't mess things up for them. 

"Alright big guy, how drunk are you?" he asked and let Isala down on the bed and followed over him with his knee between the elf's legs and arms to the bed on each side of his head. "Do you remember your word?" 

"Yes!" Isala eagerly replied under him and grabbed his horns, easily tugging Bull down for a kiss.

"What is it?" Bull prodded, he wanted to be entirely sure.

"Magister." The elf whined impatiently.

"Good boy. Roll over at your stomach and don't touch yourself."

The elf flipped over at his stomach almost before Bull was off the bed and Bull chuckled lightly. He liked when Isala was eager and bouncy, that made him a bit of a challenge. It was a bit like wrangling a water hating cat into taking a long bath. He'd tell the elf to do something and he'd be certain that Isala would be squirming and pushing, trying for limits.

True to that analogy he could hear the elf squirm around on the bed before he had even taken five steps from him to get the chest with toys. Since he more or less lived with his dragon elf now he had moved his things up to Isala's room for easier access. He had found he didn't even want to fuck other people, not when he could have Isala. It was oddly domestic and not at all what he had been taught by the Qun, but he enjoyed it. 

"Ataashi. Be still." He warned and the elf let out a desperate whine from the bed. 

"I can't" the elf whined. "Bull... got something for you." The elf purred sultry. 

That's when Bull realized one of the toys were missing and suddenly all squirming about the elf had been up to all night made a lot more sense. He chuckled lightly and grabbed some rope. Isala was too drunk for anything too major but he'd most likely be fine with his hands tied up. And since apparently the elf would be prepped and open for him that seemed like the way to go. 

"You know, maybe we have to teach you 'bout patience." Bull said with a laugh. Isala whined unhappy as he shifted on the bed. "Alright, lose your clothes Kadan but no touching yourself and no leaving the bed. I'll do things your body won't believe." He promised.

The Iron Bull would never not be impressed by his elf's ability to speed when he wished it. And he hummed appreciative at the sight of the naked elf squirming on his stomach at the bed, the plug neatly nuzzled into his fine dark skinned ass, just waiting to be played and teased with. 

However Bull didn't begin playing with the toy until the elf was properly tied down. Hands secured behind his back and cock with a pretty leather ribbon on, like a name-day gift to deny him the pleasure of coming until Bull allowed it. He din't play with Isala's pretty waiting hole until his ass was red and the elven body was covered in bites, hickeys an scratch marks.

Not until Isala was sobbing and begging for Bull to get inside of him did he comply with the elf's wishes. Then he didn't stop pounding until they were both reduced into puddles. Or maybe one combined messy puddle more like. He knew better than to let them both sleep in the mess and made easy work dragging out the sheets before tapping them a hot bath scented with lavender and pretty bubbles and made sure to spoil his Kadan. 

The sex was real nice, but the cuddly after care was always perfect. Isala would always make soft little happy noises and that's when Bull would know the elf truly enjoyed what they did more than just sexual release. 

That was what made Isala, Bull's Kadan and not just a shallow flirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was meant to be smut but... well it just didn't cooperate with me, so you get to use your imagination!


	49. It feels like home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tempel of Mythal coming up and something big is about to happen. So, hold on to your butts!

**9:33 Dragon -Seheron-**

Tenek, Orchid and Keelah were decidedly three very strange mortals. Razeth wasn't entirely certain what to make of them even after months spent with them. They didn't prod him with questions, (didn't even make him say anything at all when they had realized he didn't enjoy talking) they shared their meals and provided protection without asking anything in return. Keelah, the elf of this odd group, had even provided him with two fine daggers for self defense.

Razeth knew how to handle himself in a battle even in this form and he saw it only right to help these warriors in their raids as a return for their hospitality. They had slowly initiated him in learning this elven body to withstand the white vitaar they painted themselves in before a raid, and had taught him how to move in the fog unseen like a ghost.

Keelah had taught him how to fight. Not that he needed it, he knew how to be a flurry without her help, instincts and knowledge from a time long ago. But he appreciated that these people wanted to teach him, one didn't teach prisoners and in teaching him she showed they were equals. 

It was strange for him to see a mortal as an equal but after his time with the Qunari, he found that he quite enjoyed it.

The elf, whom this body belonged to, had began to stir from his long slumber. Razeth had slowly been mending the elf's minds while they had free time, and locked away the broken parts. Sometimes he could even get so far as to have smaller conversations with the elf and helped him back towards an empty slate. A slow process but they were getting there. 

Today they were sitting in a clearing of the dense jungle, a fire roasting a boar and the sun was shining down on them. Above them in the trees, birds were tweeting cheerfully and Tenek was sharpening Orchid's staff blade. Keelah was helping Orchid as the horned woman was making them more elfroot potions. Even if she was a healer all of them still carried potions around. In battle it was preferred that they took a potion so Orchid could focus on her own fighting instead of healing. 

It was over all a very calm day and he was focused on mending another patch in the broken elf's minds.  _"You picked up some fruits earlier. What were they?"_ Razeth flinched by the sudden question. The elf hadn't initiated any conversation before and when they had them, he barely ever asked questions. The dragon had come to understand that slaves weren't allowed question things and the elf was frightened to change his pattern. 

He blinked and stared at the fire in confusion for a moment before grabbing his bag and dug around for the fruit he had picked the other day.  **"These?"** He wondered calmly.  _"Yes! I have seen them in Tevinter, master's cook said he enjoyed to have them in tarts."_ The elf eagerly said and aimed full interest at the dark round fruit. 

The dragon curled their lips in a smile before cutting one open and carefully dug his fingers into the sticky seeds before slipping them into their mouth. He allowed the senses to combine for a moment, to let the elf get the hint of a taste for the fruit. The elf seemed positively delighted and made the equivalent of squirming in their minds.  **"Passion fruit. If you want the rest you must take them for yourself."** he informed casually and just silently waited for the elf's next move. 

At first nothing happened,the elf remained in the back of their minds. But then, slowly, like a startled rabbit sensing a fox, the shift in consciousness began. It was a very slow, very careful switch and the dragon easily surrendered the lead for the elf, allowing him to try and get used to it. This was progress beyond any progress they had made before and he was interested that fruit would be what lured the elf out. 

The elf, fully in control carefully repeated what the dragon had done and dug some of the sticky seeds out with his fingers and quickly slipped the yellow mess into his mouth. Chewing made the seeds crunch between his teeth and the elf marveled in the odd sensations mixing in his mouth. Slaves were given unseasoned fish, stale bread or grits for food. Once or twice when he had been especially good his master had given him something of his own leftovers but that had been a rare luxury.

This was all his, he could eat all of the fruit and absolutely no one could take that away from him. He easily licked the fruit clean when he was finished with it. He hadn't even noticed when Keelah had moved closer until she sat in front of him holding another fruit out for him with a kind smile. 

The elf squeaked startled and scrambled backwards to get out of her personal space. He tried hard to retreat to the safety of the dragon but the dragon simply refused the switch of control and promptly informed that the other elf wouldn't harm him. She was just offering him more fruit.

Keelah just smiled gently as she remained still. "I won't hurt you, we've just not seen you actually looking like you enjoy anything other than rip enemies to shreds. I figured you might want some more." She said cheerfully, as if he hadn't just thrown himself away from her in panic. 

"I..." He began but had to clear his voice that was rough of disuse. "Thank you." He said carefully. 

Keelah smiled and dropped the fruit in his hand and he slowly returned to sitting cross legged as before and cut the fruit in half like the dragon had. Keelah just smiled and sat down beside him, picking out some other fruit and ate companionable silence. It was as if she thought nothing was strange about him and it made him relax slightly and enjoy his fruit. 

"So, do you have a name?" The lady Qunari, Orchid, said with a friendly smile. 

The elf blushed and shook his head. Pulchra wasn't his name, it was just what his master had liked to call him because he was pretty. But he wasn't master Tarsicius property anymore, his master was dead. He was his own person now, and real people had names... 

"Well, you need one." Tenek said with a grin. "How about flurry! Or lightning!"

"Tenek! Those are terrible!" Orchid chided him. 

"But he need something that fit him! He is quick as lightning." Tenek whined. It was odd how someone his size could make such a silly whining noise. "Maybe shadow! Ooooh shadow is nice! Or Hurricane." 

He wasn't sure when it happened, but as they sat there trying to make up names for him, he found himself smiling.

* * *

**9:41 Dragon -The Arbor wilds-**

The arbor wilds reminded him of Seheron, not just because it was a jungle full of battle cries and the sound of metal clashing to metal in the distance. It was also warm, had several plants and trees that he had seen on Seheron and several of the same birds were tweeting or screeching among the branches high above them. And not to talk about the smell, he loved the scent of ancient trees and the soft perfume from exotic flowers.

He had, on the way to first camp, stuffed his bag half full of all the exotic fruits they had come across. He had promptly ignored when Cassandra said that in this rate Corypheus would be long gone because the inquisitor wanted to pick fruit.

But Cassandra didn't understand. Or rather, she didn't know. He missed his kith so much it actually was a pain in his chest. He saw the jungle, smelled the scents of home and all he could think about was Tenek, laughing at some horrible joke. Orchid sighing deeply over the stupidity of it, Septimus trying to stifle his giggles while Keelah would be grinning smugly, no doubt the one telling the joke.

Picking fruit and drawing on happier memories was all he could do not to break apart of the pain of loss.

He stood quietly by the edge of the camp and took a deep breath. He needed to come to terms with that they were dead and he wouldn't see them again... but it was hard. He didn't want them all to be gone, even if he never got to see them again, he'd be happier if it turned out they were at Seheron again, having survived the blast and gone back home.   

But that wouldn't happen. 

He jumped startled when a hand gently clasped over his shoulder, but when he opened his eyes it was just Bull. Bull who smiled understanding, and Isala sighed deeply. Bull had been in Seheron just like himself, probably also recognized the settings just as Isala did. Maybe Bull hadn't lost someone in the same way Isala had from there, but he knew Seheron had been the place where Bull burned out once in the past and this couldn't be easy on him either.

"You okay there Kadan?" Bull asked quietly, a question only meant for them.

"Not really... I miss them." He admitted. "I feel like I'm there but... they're not with me."

"Have to admit, it's a bit odd being here like this. Feels like I'm back in Seheron under the Qun." Bull agreed.

Isala smiled slightly then pulled up a smaller jar from a pouch and opened it. He used Bull's hand like a table to have both hands free and reached up to paint out several white stripes in Bull's face and down on his throat. Then he did the same at himself before putting the paint back into it's place in his pouch on his belt.

"There. Now we're in between. Neither fog warrior, nor Qunari." He declared with a wide smile. 

Bull laughed and pulled him close for a deep kiss and Isala sighed happily as he melted into it. He didn't care that people could see them, they were long past that. After Halamshiral, all of Thedas knew they were more than just friends and he wanted this kiss, in case things went south today. 

"Ready to take them down?" Bull grunted when they pulled apart again. 

"As ready as I'll ever be." He said with a nod. 

"Good, let's go and get the others and then go kick some ass!" 

Isala laughed at that. Even if he had lost his old family, he had a new one now, and mourning the old one would have to wait to a better day. Besides, his old kith wouldn't have wanted him to mope for them, they would have wanted him to get out into battle and fight. They would have wanted him to be happy and live. 

He would honor their memories by ridding the world of Corypheus and his red templars. Then he would live his life a a free man. 


	50. An elven dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Temple of Mythal provides a life changing choice for Isala and he is not certain he'll be able to live with the consequences.

**9:41 Dragon -Temple of Mythal-**

Isala silently stood listening to Morrigan, Solas and Abelas as the three were arguing about the well of sorrows and what do be done with it.

They had fought their way through templars and surprisingly enough, elves. Elves that had fought like Isala fought, aggressive quick movements shrouded in enough shadows to be a nightmare to hit. His companions had pretty much just swung their weapons or shot wildly around them to hope they'd hit something. Isala had been the only one quick enough to keep up with their speed.

He had wondered about those elves, how they knew how to fight like that. Isala only knew how to fight almost invisibly because the dragon had once taught him. When Isala had asked his dragon about it the dragon hadn't answered him. It wasn't highly unusual, sometimes the dragon didn't feel like telling him things and there was no idea in trying to prod. 

Instead he had realized that if they wanted answers, they'd have to find the temple where these elves undoubtedly came from. He just hoped the inquisition troops could hold it against these elves without too many casualties. 

When they had found the temple they also had found that Corypheus had beaten them to it. They saw the ancient magister die in an explosion of elven magic and for a moment Isala nearly thought that was it. But then he had resurrected himself in the body of a dead grey warden. Moments later Isala and his team had been forced to take cover from Corypheus' dragon, luckily the temple doors sealed shut behind them when they closed them. Preventing both Dragon and Corypheus from following.

Inside the temple they found themselves forced to go through a set of trials to gain passage to the inner sanctum. Well, they could have followed Samson's path down the hole the red templars had created. Isala knew they had short with time, that their soldiers were dying outside and perhaps the best would be to take the path down the hole. 

But that would be disrespectful to Mythal. A woman, the dragon reminded him, worthy of respect. 

When they had finally reached the sanctum they had met with Abelas and the other sentinels of the temple. They were guardians guarding the vir abelasan. The well of sorrows. Morrigan had briefly explained that the well offered knowledge but to gain such knowledge, there was a price, a price she was willing to pay. Solas had made it very clear that he didn't at all approve the idea of Morrigan drinking from the well.

When Abelas offered them the choice to ally with them and leave the well alone Isala had decided that was an excellent idea. If they killed Samson and stopped Corypheus from getting what he wanted, the elves could keep their knowledge and well for themselves. 

In the end they didn't kill Samson, just knocked him unconscious. Dagna's rune had worked excellently and Samson's armor had been  nothing more than a regular armor. With Samson still alive he could be sent back to Skyhold for Judgement, he had a few things to stand for after all. If he had died Isala didn't doubt it'd be another silly box judgement like with Florianne. Now that had been ridiculous.

However, right now. Morrigan, Abelas and Solas were still all three arguing about the well. Morrigan wanted to use it, Abelas wanted it destroyed and Solas thought someone should use it but not Morrigan. Isala wasn't sure what he thought about it and decided that he'd just let the three figure it out on their own. He was done here, Samson was stopped and hopefully Corpheus would retreat. 

**"Can you not hear it?"** The dragon suddenly asked, startling Isala out of his thoughts. Isala glanced over to the well curiously. It was making sounds? He couldn't hear anything.  _"No."_ The dragon made an exasperated sigh as he had in the early years when Isala didn't learn quick enough for his liking.  **"Be quiet."** _"I am quiet!"_ Isala protested very much not quiet.

The dragon only made a feeling of annoyance wash through them and Isala kept silent for real this time. Listening. Slowly a faint mumbling was heard, then whispers, then faraway voices and Isala focused on the water. He didn't notice Abelas looking at him with a bit of a smug smile or hear what the three was arguing about.

Those whispers were calling for him. Or them. Him and the dragon together, asking them to come closer and they would help. Isala took a very careful step towards the water before quickly looking up, as if to check that no one saw him. No one was paying him attention, no one would have time to stop him. 

He took another careful step, then another. The dragon wasn't stopping him, instead he was urging him on and finally Isala stepped into the water and dipped his hand into it. It was like the water wasn't actually made by water but little wisps of magical voices, telling him to drink.

"Kadan?" Bull sounded even further away than the whispers and he ignored his warrior for the moment.

"Inquisitor, no!" He thought Morrigan called from afar. 

However it was too late, he let the cooling water slip down his mouth and throat with a tingling feeling. For a moment nothing happened. He just stood there with the soft whispers all around him that murmured approvingly. Then, as sudden as one of his own attacks, it felt like his body was ripped in two. He let out a loud scream of pain as the ground vanished from under him.

He didn't know how far he fell but when the pain stopped, as sudden as it had begun he was on his knees in a blue mist. Surrounded by the odd whispers from before but he felt empty. It was so loud but so quiet. His head was hollow and he was certain this feeling would make him go insane any moment now. Trying to call for help, for the dragon to explain, he was met by nothing, and suddenly it made sense. 

He was alone. 

"No! No, no, no! Where-" He began but was cut short by himself screaming of fright. 

A familiar looking dragon within reach stood staring at him and he scrambled backwards in panic. The usual urge to fight, didn't appear, panic and fear was clawing at him from all directions and all he wanted was to curl up to a ball to protect himself. But he didn't, he was paralyzed by fear where he had landed on his back on the misty ground, leaned to one elbow, staring. 

The dragon did the equivalent of an eye roll and suddenly Isala realized why it seemed so familiar. He had seen it before. He very slowly pushed himself up to stand on his feet. Eyes never leaving the magnificent beast in front of him as the dragon stretched out it's entire length, spreading the massive wings making a content noise.

The dragon was the same dragon he had seen in Seheron a decade ago. The dragon was him, his dragon, his other half... but not inside of  him as he was used to. Curiosity began to creep in to replace the fear he had felt. He took a careful step towards the dragon and the dragon leaned it's head in with interest until they met in the middle and Isala stroke over the warm scaly head. 

The dragon just looked at him for a long while but then tilted it's head to nuzzle towards his hand and Isala smiled. Like a large cat with a nastier bite.  

But their moment was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a blonde elf. Isala barely even had the time to notice her before he was caught in dragon claws and protectively pulled out of reach for the woman until his back hit more dragon scales where the dragon pinned him to it's own chest. It was startling and he tensed for a moment before remembering again that this was his friend, not a hungry beast.

The elven woman who didn't even look a little intimidating, her hair braided beautifully and her dress a soft pale blue of a beautiful make, smiled friendly at them before speaking in a strange voice. It was as if she was there but not really. "Aneth ara child. You have given up yourself willingly to the mother of all. But your case is an unusual one, we can sense your bond, not put there by choice and we wish to offer you this chance to break what was done or mend what is wrong." She said calmly.

"You... what?" He asked hating how frightened he sounded. 

"We can part your both minds and place them back to the right bodies. Or we can mend the fault in the bond that binds you and make it the way it should." She said.

Isala swallowed hard. It wasn't much of an explanation but as he understood it, he could be himself. He could be just Isala, have his head to himself and live a life without having to worry about Qunari getting to close because they would smell him. He wouldn't have the urge to jump out of heights or make all those dragon noises. He wouldn't ever again have to worry about someone finding out his secret, never again have to lie.

He would be normal. 

He clenched his jaws. Maybe that was what most people should have wanted but not him. He couldn't live alone, the dragon was the reason he was alive. The dragon had saved him from breaking, sewed him back to a person, protected him against dangers and provided a deep friendship he would have with no other. If they parted, Isala would lose his closest and oldest friend he'd ever had.

The dragon stretched out in full length again before flapping trying with the powerful wings. Isala focused with everything he had, not to let the tears burn in his eyes. Why would a dragon choose to be stuck in the head of an elf when he had the choice to get his wings back? Why would a dragon pick mortality above eternity? Why would a dragon...-

The woman smiled at them. "You have both chosen." She said before she vanished, turning back into the mist surrounding them and Isala wanted to scream at her. Demanding to know what she meant by _they had chosen_ , but the mist began twirling angrily around them and his body felt again as if it was slowly being ripped into little pieces. 

Whatever happened, he might not even survive the ride back to reality. Maybe he didn't want to.


	51. Missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isala goes missing after the temple of Mythal and the inquisition is faced with the possibility that their inquisitor might have perished in the assault.

**9:41 Dragon -Skyhold-**

Bull was sparring with Krem, a lot harder than his poor lieutenant deserved, but he needed to get his pain out of his body before it consumed him whole and turned him savage. 

Isala had drank from the magic well in the arbor wilds and proceeded with passing out. Abelas had told them it had been inevitable, that Mythal had a certain fondness of dragons and he had felt the temple's approval of the inquisitor the moment they had met. The others had been confused, save for Solas and Bull wondered if Isala had told the apostate about his condition or if Solas had figured it on his own.

While Isala was still unconscious, Abelas had left them. He had said something about there being nothing there anymore, not for him and not for his people. Bull had been too concerned with his unconscious Kadan to care about the sentinel. He had barely even heard Morrigan complain in annoyance that Isala wouldn't know what to do with the power of the well, that they could just as well have thrown it all away. 

The elf had awoken with a loud cry and scrambled up to his feet with big wide eyes and a wild expression. But he had claimed he was fine, that nothing was wrong. 

Bull had easily seen that that wasn't the truth, but he hadn't been given time to try to pull answers out of the elf before Corypheus had appeared. Isala had somehow opened the eluvian and shouted at them to go through it, not leaving room for arguing. Not that anyone did, they clearly needed to get the hell out of there since apparently the crazy ancient vint couldn't be killed.

Only when they were back at Skyhold, having run through the mirror in the temple, through the creepy crossroads then through Morrigan's mirror, the elf wasn't with them. When the eluvian snapped shut behind them only himself, Solas, Dorian, Varric, Cassandra and Morrigan were there. Morrigan had tried to go back through the mirror but the mirror from where they had come, was shut. All they could possibly do was waiting and hope for the best.

That was now eight days ago. Eight days without a word from the Inquisitor. 

Leliana, Cullen and Josephine had all come back from the arbor wilds at day six and Leliana had confirmed that the elf was nowhere to be found. Not back in the temple or anywhere in the nearby area of what their scouts had seen. Neither was the Eluvian. Bull wasn't sure if that was supposed to be a relief or not. Corypheus might have decided that the elf could be forced to open the eluvian for him and Isala was somewhere being tortured into submitting. Not that he would, the elf had the dragon and together they had made it over a year in the re-educator's cells. 

Reports had spoken of a dragon flying away from the temple soon after Corypheus had been seen fleeing. Most likely the archdemon that Corypheus commanded because Bull sure as hell hadn't seen any other dragon around, Isala would have noticed it and told him. 

However, none of this made any sense. Isala wouldn't just disappear without a trace like that, not in a situation like this. He'd make sure they all knew he was alive before vanishing off for a couple of days. And never had he been gone for eight days in a row before. 

Bull often found himself clutching to the dragon tooth necklace around his neck. An affirmation that it was still there, they still belonged and Isala was still alive. Not that the necklace would tell if the elf was alive or not but Bull couldn't think about the elf being dead. He _**needed**_  Isala to be alive out there and there was no body telling him otherwise. 

Not that there was any idea to go out hunting for him.  **If** this was one of the times Isala didn't want to be found, it would be like trying to grasp smoke with your bare hands in the fog of Seheron. Impossible. 

So, Bull occupied himself with sparring or drinking with the boys. Trying to push his worries for his Kadan aside, trying to tell himself the elf was just out on another mission and he'd be back soon enough. But as the days went on with not even a hint of the elf, it was growing harder and harder to pretend nothing was wrong.

Krem groaned loudly when he found himself on his back once again by a rough move and Bull sighed helping him up. He was being too hard on Krem and he knew it. Isala would have tsked and chided him for it had he been around, then he'd have offered a proper sparring match before dragging Bull off with him to his chambers for... another kind of sparring so to say.

That thought made a twinge of hurt stab through his chest and he promptly stopped thinking about it. "Go get a break." He grunted and Krem sighed deeply. 

"He'll be back chief. He's a tough bastard, it's needed more than ancient magisters to kill him."

"Yeah... I know." He muttered and once again touched the tooth around his neck. 

"Let's get some drinks chief!" Krem said and slapped his back. 

A drink did sound good and would probably occupy his minds for some hours. If he got really drunk he might actually get some sleep tonight as well. Strange how he never had had a problem with sleeping alone before. Now he would find himself unable to fall asleep without the elf drooling at his chest, with all those dreads splayed out and pooling all over the place. 

Damn, he even missed the elf placing his icy feet against his body in the middle of the night. Missed the way he'd steal the blankets and move around so much it'd wake Bull up several times over. Not that he bloody well minded, at least then he knew Isala was still there. He had tried sleeping in his own bed just to get some peace of mind but it hadn't worked, at least in Isala's bed he'd be able to smell the smell of the elf. 

A smell that was slowly leaving the bed sheets and the only thing he could do to fight it was dropping half of Isala's wardrobe on the bed. But even that would eventually fade and then what would he do?

Drinking helped, well maybe it was more the company that helped and not actually the alcohol. Even if it was only early afternoon Varric had joined him and Krem drinking. Distracting Bull's thoughts by telling some story, it was made up of course, a warrior wouldn't be able to flip like that with a chainmail.... but he appreciated the effort.

That until the door to the tavern flung up with a loud bang and some soldier wildly announced that the inquisitor was finally back. Bull was on his feet almost before the soldier had finished his sentence and he was followed out to the lower courtyard by both Varric and Krem. Cullen, Leliana and Cassandra were already there, speaking to Isala who stood with his arms crossed, chatting with them as if nothing had happened.

Though the elf quite literary looked like looked like a dirty nightmare. His clothes and every little patch of skin showing were stained and caked with dried dirt, filth and blood. His dreadlocks were tangled with leaves and sticks as if he had fallen through a tree. Not to talk about the blood around his lower face and down on his chest that Bull wasn't sure if he hoped was Isala's own or not.

Shortly said, the elf looked like a walking nightmare dressing out as an elf.

But all Bull could see was the tired smile splayed on the elf's lips when this saw him. Isala apologized to Cullen, Leliana and Cassandra before quickly passing them and moved towards him. Bull didn't care about the mess, as soon as the elf came into reach he pulled him to his chest and kissed him deeply. Pressing them together as much as he could, assuring himself his Kadan was there. 

Isala easily melted to him without delay and wrapped both arms around his neck. And fuck, his elf was alive. His Kadan was alive and seemingly well, enough to stand the very least, and that was something. 

"Infirmary?" He murmured against the elf's lips. 

"Bedroom and a long bath. The blood isn't mine." Was the tired reply. "Then cakes. I want frilly silly mini cakes and hot hot chocolate." 

Bull smiled and nodded. He'd get Isala all the frilly cakes in the world and spoil him rotten, because his elf was alive and that was all that mattered. 


	52. One frilly cake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bull takes care of his dragon elf and his dragon elf just want to be tied up and taken. Oh and Frilly cakes, the dragon elf loves Frilly cakes.

**9:41 Dragon -Skyhold-**

The water was grim and murky with dirt and blood the two first times Bull drained and refilled the tub for him. Now the third time the water remained clear even when Bull again rubbed soap into his wet dreadlocks. Isala gave up a little happy noise every time Bull accidentally brushed over a pointed ear and shivered over the touch. 

"Look at that, there was a elf hiding behind all that dirt after all. I was beginning to doubt it." Bull teased him fondly. 

Isala snorted amused and splashed him with some water for his comment. "You're ridiculous." He huffed and smiled. 

But it wasn't a complaint. Nothing of this was anything he was about to complain about. Bull had insisted to help him getting all that filth off and Isala never turned his handsome ex-Qunari down when it came to his hands all over Isala's body. He had missed Bull these eight, very confusing days. But he had needed to stay away to come to terms with the changes in his life. 

The changes that had been put on him after the temple, changes to his body that for the first time in his life, had been his choice. 

When Bull deemed him clean enough and Isala stepped out of the water he just hummed happily as Bull wrapped him into a towel while using another to dry his hair. He loved this side of Bull. Gentle touches and delicate pressure, there to sooth and to show how deep Bull felt for him. It made him all warm and fuzzy inside.

But today Isala wanted a little more than that and when Bull kissed him like there was no tomorrow Isala eagerly returned the kiss with the same fervor. Hoping he was telling Bull exactly what it was that he wanted. Bull seemed to have got the message because Isala was pushed back against the wall and Bull's large hands fitted against his hips, pinning him in place to the wall. 

He quickly grabbed for Bull's horns and tugged his head close to kiss his lips yet again and nibble at the lower lip. He felt Bull's lips twist in a smile and how Bull's massive body pressed slightly closer, sliding a knee in between Isala's legs and spreading them apart. Isala moaned quietly and took a deep breath. Oh yes, that's exactly what he wanted from Bull. 

"Ropes?" Bull grunted against his lips. "What d'you want Kadan?" 

Isala purred happily and rolled his hips against Bull's. His cock wasn't hard yet but it was twitching interested and heat was making it's way down his lower abdomen. He just needed to be as close as possible with Bull, preferably having Bull inside of him at a breathtaking speed and strength. He wanted Bull to claim him and he wanted to claim Bull back.

"Anything. Everything. I just need you." Isala mumbled and nipped on Bull's lower lip with his pointed teeth. 

His appearance had changed slightly. Nothing that caught the eye at once but his teeth were a bit sharper, his nails were slightly pointed as if he had filed them down into claws. He just had to be a little bit more careful with touches and bites. 

"Get on the bed on your knees and close your eyes, don't move and just wait for me." Was the command. 

Isala hummed happily and complied when Bull moved away from him. He untangled the towel and sat on his knees on the bed loyally and kept his eyes closed in anticipation. So many things were different now and yet it was the same. The voices of the well had... fixed him, fixed them both. Him and the dragon were more than they had been. Their minds connected properly in the way they were meant to be connected. 

They were still two beings sharing an elven body. But in difference of before the gears were oiled and worked smoothly instead of clunking. There was a bond between them they could maintain open from both ends or close it from either side. When it was opened, what one felt the other would feel as well and what one thought the other would hear. But if either closed their side of the connection the other would be unable to feel and hear what the other thought and felt. 

Isala was interrupted from his thoughts by Bull kissing his shoulder before guiding his arms straight behind his back. Isala hummed happily but kept his eyes closed, Bull had told him to keep them closed and yet so far, he felt for following orders. 

When the rope was worked around  his torso, up his neck and down over his arms, tying him up safely he made a happy dragon like chirping. The dragon still didn't understand the pleasure in being tied up. Isala had tried to explain but the dragon still didn't understand how being bound could feel liberating and comfortable. 

But it wasn't the restriction in itself that was a comfort. It was the trust in Bull that made him feel safe, happy and loved when they did this. He wouldn't like anyone else in the world tying him up, only Bull. Because he knew that no matter what, Bull would never actually hurt him. If he'd say his safe word, Bull would stop, no questions asked and they'd continue with something else. 

The liberating part was that he didn't have to be in control in any kind of way. Bull would be there and take him apart then put him back together, he would take care of him in every way possible and Isala wouldn't have to care about anything more in the world than breathing. That gave him full room to feel, to enjoy and to be happy. 

These were things the dragon couldn't understand. But neither was the dragon bothered by it as long as he was kept out of their games. 

"Spread your legs ataashi." Bull said when Isala had felt him tie the last knot.

The command was followed by a little nudge to his leg and Isala hummed smiling cheeky. He felt a little rebellious, Bull'd have to fight for it if he wanted him. (Even if it was Isala who had practically asked for it first.)

"And if I don't?" He purred teasingly.

His tease turned into a surprised yelp when Bull pushed him into the sheets, face first and ass up. He shivered happily as Bull's large hand grabbed his hip and Isala flexed his fingers down by his ass. It was the only movement he could do with his entire upper body, save from tilting his head right and left.

He was just about to tease him some more when a loud slapping sound rung through the room and Isala jerked forwards with a surprised cry over the sudden sting to his ass. Now that was unexpected. Welcome, but unexpected. He moaned and tilted his hips slightly to angle his ass a little better for Bull and another slap was delivered. This one making him cry out muffled in the sheets mixed with a loud moan. 

"Another eight Kadan. Hold still or I'll add five more." Bull warned.

Bull's spankings made his skin hot and the jolts of pain that shot through his body went straight to his cock, hardening the flesh. Bull biting his ass didn't help at all in his tries to stop squirming around but Isala still quickly nodded his consent.

"Yes! Ah! Fuck yes! Yesyesyesyes." He breathed out. 

"You're so eager!" Bull said with a chuckle and without any warning another smack rung through the room. 

That one made Isala rocketed forwards crying out his pleasure again as he tensed in the ropes, struggling in vain. The next seven slaps were delivered in different velocity of speed and strength. By the last one Isala was sobbing with tears slipping over his cheeks as Bull massaged over the tender flesh of his ass. 

Good tears, he had to remind the dragon. He wanted this and Bull wasn't hurting him. The dragon made the equivalent of an eye roll before closing off the connection again. 

Isala let out a surprised squeak when he was rolled over to his back but didn't struggle. Bull was towering him impressively and Isala made several happy chirping noises when the warrior began stroking over his thighs toward his hardened cock that was twitching to his stomach. Just a little further and Bull would be touching him exactly where he wanted to be touched.

"Look at you... you truly are beautiful Ataashi. What do you want hm?" Bull rumbled before leaning in and began kissing over his chest, here and there sucking marks or leaving love bites behind. "You are so good. Think you can come even if I don't touch you?"

Isala whined at the thought, he wanted Bull to touch him, but his partner had stopped touching, just shy of where he wanted it. He wanted Bull's hand wrapped around his shaft while Bull's cock was splitting him in half. He wanted to be claimed and scream in pleasure. 

"Bull, please..." he whined. "More, I want more." 

Bull laughed and came up to kiss him once, a deep kiss with a lot of tongue, before sliding down over him until he was on his knees on the floor. Isala felt his hopes get up when Bull's tongue licked on the inside of his thighs closing up towards his cock.

Of course, Bull being Bull, that wasn't about to happen. Not this quickly and instead Isala's legs was moved up over Bull's horns as his mouth passed down, away from his leaking cock to his entrance instead, licking and lapping the tight ring of muscles there. Isala let out a loud desperate dragon sound, trying to urge Bull on while clenching his fingers in the sheets under him.

Bull growled out a moan before that tongue was pressing into his hole, quick and slick with saliva. Isala threw his head back and groaned over the way Bull's tongue wickedly sank into him. It only  took a few strokes until Bull had found his target and his tongue was repeatedly stroking over his sensitive spot and Isala began blabbering in a mix of languages and dragon noises.

In a deep precise hit of tongue and by the way Bull's fingers clenched to his hips Isala _did_  come untouched. White ropes of seed painted his stomach while his toes curled up in white pleasure, squeezing to Bull's back before his body went lax. 

Not that Bull was done with him, when Isala came back to it, it was to Bull lapping over his soft cock, making it twitch and harden while his fingers were stroking slowly to his sensitive insides. Isala whined but was cut off by a long moan when Bull's finger brushed his sensitive spot just right yet again. This afternoon was far from over and he just hoped he could keep up with Bull. Well, one way or another, Bull always managed to make Isala keep up with him.

By the end of it Bull had made him come three more times, the last one Isala had been sobbing and barely had anything left to come. But Bull had pushed him right over the edge with his thick cock buried deep in Isala's ass. Somehow the last time was as blinding and perfect as the first time and Isala felt it as if he had been reduced into a puddle. If Corypheus attacked them right now, he probably wouldn't even be able to make himself care. 

When he came back down from his high, he was cradled in Bull's lap just as Bull freed his arms, gently rubbing feeling back in them. He was aware that Bull's load was dripping out of his ass and he kept his squirming to a minimum as he nuzzled up closer to Bull's warm chest. He was exhausted, but damn did he feel complete. He couldn't do anything other than smile as Bull worked his torso free of the stubborn rope. 

"Frilly cakes?" He mumbled against Bull's neck. "Want frilly cakes."

"Bath first." Bull said to him with a gentle chuckle. 

"One frilly cake while in the bath." Isala bargained. 

Bull laughed lightly and kissed his lips softly, Isala was only too happy to kiss back.

"One frilly cake in the bath." Bull agreed with a smile. 

Isala hummed happily over the victory and nabbed a blue frilly cake when Bull carried him back to the bath. Not that the cake survived even into the bathroom as Isala shoved the whole thing into his mouth before Bull could stop him.


	53. Altar of Mythal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isala and Bull have a calm night in the inquisitor's quarters. Then a dragon fight appears.

**9:41 Dragon -Skyhold-**

"What happened back there Kadan?" Bull finally asked when they were back on the bed after their bath.

Both still naked and eating frilly cakes curled up together. Isala was sitting in Bull's lap, legs swung over the warrior's own and one of Bull's arms wrapped around his back. Isala's head rested to Bull's chest, the damp dreadlocks making a drop of water now and then dribble down over Bull's chest.They had fortified themselves with the blankets and pillows, making themselves a cozy pile of fluffiness around them.

He wasn't sure why they had done it, it had just happened. But he liked it, it was a safe place. 

Not that he by any means felt unsafe anymore, not after the well of sorrows. He had been given an incredible gift and it made him feel a lot more certain about himself and his means of defense. If a Qunari wanted to drag him off to Par Vollen, they were free to try but they wouldn't get him far.

But right now, right there, Bull had questions. And his warrior had certainly made himself deserving of getting those questions answered. For as well Isala could answer them at least, he still didn't know everything himself yet, nor did the dragon. The voices had just fixed them, not told them how they had done it and Isala didn't actually feel that he needed to know. As long as it all worked, he'd just be happy about it. 

He swallowed down the bite he had just taken from his pink cake and looked at it contemplative. Deciding that he wanted to finish it before talking, he quickly stuffed the whole thing into his mouth at once. 

"I turned into a dragon." He hummed when he had finished chewing. "The well of sorrows... it fixed me, the spell Tarsicius had used on us was incomplete, wrong. And they, errr, the voices, in the well, they fixed it."

"They... Wait, you tellin' me you actually turned into a dragon?" Bull asked wide eyed. 

"Yes, or, more like a large drake. Flying is a lot more difficult than it seemed and the he wanted me to learn. I still don't know much more than gliding but that was more than enough." He hummed happily. "Oh, and fire!" 

Isala focused on the deep hot feeling in the middle of his chest. He pulled some air in then let out a little huff of smoke that slipped out from his lips and Isala grinned widely over the success. He couldn't actually breath fire in this body, but the smoke was relatively easy to make. To his delight the smoke smelled like dragon fire, a bit sharper and more metallic than wood based fires and more raw than mage fire. 

He grinned even wider when he could feel Bull's cock twitch against his bottom where he sat in his lap. Isala guessed it was a reaction to the smoke. He grinned and kissed Bull's jaw and gave up another little huff of smoke. 

"That... is fucking hot." Bull said in awe. 

"No more fucking." Isala whined. "Need some time." He said and cuddled closer to Bull. 

"Nah, I know Kadan." Bull assured with a little chuckle. "I'll just have to wait until tomorrow morning." He said and licked the shell of his ear. 

Isala shivered and swatted at Bull's chest to make him stop. Bull just chuckled and kissed on his hair, wrapping both arms around him instead of just the one. Isala made another happy chirping noise while the dragon stuffed their mouth with another cake. _"_ _Who would have thought that a dragon would have a taste for orlesian bakery?"_ He teased playfully.

**"It's delicious. Do not tease me for enjoying these cakes. I know your obsession with fruit and elfroot."** Isala grinned and stopped his teasing thoughts and just enjoyed the flavor of the blue cake and the weight of Bull's head against his own. It was idyllic, the calm before a raging storm about to happen. It made him think about the future, what him and Bull would become after this whole mess. Who would they be in a decade to come? 

**"You are warriors, neither of you would live a calm life for too long."** The dragon said calmly and Isala smiled fondly.  _"It would grow awfully boring wouldn't it?"_ He agreed and sighed happily.  **"You will go with him when this is all over. Become one of his chargers.** Isala glanced up at Bull with his fond smile still there. _"_ _Adopt a dragonling and join the chargers. Yes, I believe that is my future with him."_ The dragon made approval wash though them.

"It's a bit different. _I_  am a bit different. He's a bigger part of me now, or rather we work easier together. It's hard to explain." He said after a while of silence. "We can both be in the front... sort of."

"He there now?" Bull asked squeezing his thigh gently. 

"Yes. He likes the cakes." Isala hummed before the dragon made them take another bite.

"Ain't gonna lie, that's both hot and a bit strange." Bull said against his hair. "You smell more than before." 

The dragon snorted amused and Isala grinned rubbing against Bull a bit more. It was territorial. Their scent was stronger because they were marking out both this room and Bull as theirs. They wouldn't always smell that much. The smelling thing was new, and Isala was fascinated over how many different scents they could give off now. Territorial, fear, happiness, arousal, anger, battle and so many more.

"Territorial." He said. "Won't always smell this much." He informed and shifted around. 

He didn't stop moving until he was straddling Bull's lap and kissed his lips over and over again. Bull easily replied each and every one of the tender kisses while having his arms wrapped around Isala's middle the way he loved. Isala had his own arms wrapped around Bull's neck while keeping as close as he possibly could to his handsome warrior.

In the future they'd most likely continue to fight in battles, live exciting lives. They'd probably never know what the next day'd actually be, and Isala looked forwards to that life. As long as it was by Bull's side. 

Tonight though, tonight he just wanted to be as close to Bull as possible.

* * *

**9:41 Dragon -Altar of Mythal-**

There was two dragons standing in the large clearing. One large, yellow high dragon that was holding her head low but shoulders high, ready to pounce, while growling dangerously. The other one was a slimmer male drake with an impressive size. It's black scales glimmered almost a dark, yet vibrant purple in the sun and it's teeth were gritted in retaliation to the yellow dragon. 

Bull had fought a lot of dragons, especially by the side of Isala, but he had never seen a showdown between two dragons before. If just that hadn't made his pants tent over his erection, the fact that the black drake was his Kadan certainly did. 

Even if Bull hadn't seen the elf's transformation he would have easily drawn parallels between this drake and Isala. They had the same sharp yellow eyes, they shared the gracious almost regal movements, as if moving around was an art form not just a way to move from one point to another. The sounds coming from the drake were the same sounds that came from Isala, only amplified and Bull couldn't stop staring at the two. 

Three or four days ago Isala had chased through the Eluvian, following Morrigan, who in turn had been chasing after her kid. Apparently well in there they had met with Morrigan's mother... who incidentally turned out to be Mythal, the eleven goddess. For Bull, the whole thing was an entire mess, but Isala had simply shrugged it off and told them they needed a dragon. For killing Corypheus' dragon, because apparently Corypheus couldn't be killed unless his dragon was first.

That's why they were there right now. His Kadan standing face to face with a high dragon while they were both making dangerous sounds or angry snarls. Bull himself, Dorian and Varric were keeping their distance. Varric mumbling something sounding like _'shit always seemed to be weird'_ , while Dorian was just watching with interest. 

Then the larger dragon screeched loudly before pouncing the smaller drake. The drake quickly went on a counter attack. Isala was using the same speed and agility he did as an elf, easily dodging bites and swats while slipping in and delivering nasty bites and blows himself. 

His smaller size helping him as efficiently now as it did with him as an elf.

However, it was concerning to see the two dragons latch on to each other and roll around in the grass with claws, teeth and loud cries ringing through the clearing. Enough blood splattering all over the place to fill a smaller pool. The yellow dragon delved in and took a large bite to the drake's shoulder making the drake screech and squirm in pain. 

But just as Bull was about to throw himself into the mess to get the yellow dragon off his Kadan, two powerful hind legs managed to launch the yellow dragon off the drake. The dragon rolled over the ground with a angry hissing. But in the blink of an eye, before the yellow one had time to react, the black drake was over the larger. Claws dug in by the junction of the wings and teeth shut around a yellow scaled throat. 

The yellow dragon went lax in compliance with a loud huff before the black drake jumped off. 

The yellow dragon soon got up and they stared each other down before the black drake made a conversational squeaky sound. The yellow dragon chuffed in reply, then they just silently stood there for a while. The black drake moved first, took a step closer and stroke it's head lazily against the side of the yellow dragon's head. The yellow returned the motion with another little huff before taking to flight. 

The black drake shifted in shape, scales redrawing, texture changing until it was tanned dark skin and the body turned smaller until a battered looking elf stood in it's place. All injuries a match to the drakes. But the elf was grinning widely as if saturnalia had come early this year. 

"It'll help us. Once."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've been thinking. Do I make Trespasser here? Do I make it in a work on it's own? Do I ignore it? I don't know yet but as I feel right now, Trespasser will show up here in this work, just to make it easier to read it as a full. 
> 
> There are things that happens between Trespasser and now of course but those things I think will be separate works. Also a lot more Seheron material. 
> 
> But yeah, what would you like me to do with Trespasser? Ideas are most welcome!


	54. The end of an era

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle against Corypheus is won. Isala has finished his work for the inquisition... or has he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright this it is folks! The end of this fic, sort of. Trespasser will be thrown up in the next part of this series so if you just stay put, that part will come up in a day or two and will be called "A Fog Warrior in Halamshiral" 
> 
> It has been really exciting to create this series and I am so happy that you people have stayed with me, commented and kudoed it! You are all amazing and a large THANK YOU!

**9:41 Dragon -Ruined temple of sacred ashes-**

"The orb..." 

Solas sat on his knees on the ground, holding the broken shards of the elven orb Corypheus had previously wielded. Isala very slowly approached the other elf, uncertain if Solas might want time to himself or if he wanted a friend close while in sorrow. 

Corypheus had been defeated.

The ancient magister had reopened the breach, ready to bring the entire world down with one last desperate move. He had nearly succeeded had it not been for quick acting of the inquisition. Had Corypheus been smart, he would have waited, but the loss at the arbor wilds must have driven him scared to fail. That fear had thus become his downfall. 

While Isala, with the entire crew of his inner circle at his back had, fought Corypheus; Mythal's dragon had managed to bring the fake archdemon to the ground. It had been clear that the yellow high dragon wasn't the one coming out on top in this fight though and Isala had thrown himself into the fight in the shape of the black drake. Together, they had brought Corypheus' dragon to a bloody end. 

However, killing Corypheus had been done in the shape of an elf. And not only had he settled with the ancient darkspawn magister to die, he entirely obliterated him and banished his ashes into the fade. Isala didn't want to risk a repeat of Hawke's misadventures where the darkspawn magister had risen again. This time, there was no coming back. 

Unfortunately, when he'd closed the breach for good, using the help of the elven orb, the orb itself had been left a dead piece of metal.

And now... Solas was looking truly broken up about it, more so than one would over a lost magical artifact. Isala carefully crouched down in front of the other elf and gently put his hand to Solas' shoulder. He wasn't sure what comfort he could be to the other elf but he would try. Solas was a close friend, but also family. Everyone that  had grown close to him were part of his family. 

It was probably a dragon thing to think like that, or possibly ex-slave thing.

"Is it... I mean... could we fix it? Take the pieces and... maybe..." He could hear it himself, the stupidity of the idea.

But still he felt like he had to ask. If there was any way he could help Solas he would do it, because he hated to see so much pain in the other elf. Ears drooping low and his usually carefully guarded facial features or the common little smirk were gone. Giving place to showing nothing but sorrow. 

"That would not recover what was lost."

Isala looked at Solas and his drooping ears. This was the sorrow over more than just loosing an artifact of the elven people. Solas had always been a mystery for him. Someone who felt a lot older then he appeared to be.  And that's when it struck him. Abelas words, the very few he had semi heard by the well of sorrows. ' _elvhen, such as you?' 'Yes Such as I'._ Solas wasn't like other elves.

The apostate elf felt old and ancient to him and the dragon because he _was_  ancient. Maybe another sentinel from some other temple, lost to the ages without home nor family left. The only link he'd had to his time, his people, that had been this orb and now he had nothing. **"That would make sense as to why he has so much knowledge of what's passed."** The dragon agreed. 

"There is more isn't there, Solas? More to you, to this?"

"It was never meant to happen this way." Solas said mournfully. "Whatever happens, Isala, you have my respect and my friendship."

"Where will you go?" He asked calmly. Solas looked at him in slight surprise and Isala smiled slightly. "Wherever your path may lead. I am honored to have called you friend through this. I wish you luck and that you will find what it is you seek." 

"One day you might say different." Solas said with the same note of sorrow. 

"Inquisitor! Are you alive?" Cassandra called not far from them.

Isala turned his head towards Cassandra's voice but then looked back to Solas. Perhaps one day they would't agree how something was handled. After all, Solas hadn't approved with all of Isala's choices, but they were still friends. Because that's how friends worked, you didn't agree on everything, but you didn't start hating the other for a poor choice either.

"Perhaps that is so." He agreed. "But you will still hold my friendship. You know where to find the inquisition would you need us." 

And with that, Isala stood up and turned around. There was no idea to beg Solas to stay or try to convince him not to go. Solas had the face of a man that had already decided he needed time to himself. A man who had already put up a path to go and that path wasn't the same as Isala's path. Even so, Isala did have a feeling that they'd meet again some day, for better or for worse.

But right now, Solas needed space. Space and to do what it was he was planning on doing.

He walked towards Cassandra's voice and found the rest of his people down a staircase. All alive. A bit tattered but alive. Most important Bull was there, he had a slash across his shoulder, Isala had seen him take a hit from a demon and he admit that he had been a bit concerned over it. But Bull smiled widely and all concerns were washed away. 

"Then it's over. How lovely." Vivienne said with a smile. 

"And look at you, all not dead. Nice work Kadan." Bull said, grin reaching into his voice.

"What will we do now?" Cassandra asked. 

Isala looked at them all, then glanced back. Solas was already long gone. Corypheus defeated and the world was saved. But he knew that this was just the beginning. People would be asking for their help soon enough. Rogue venatori groups still needed dispatching and rifts needed to be closed before he could retire his position as inquisitor. 

"Now, we go back to Skyhold. Take a deep breath and see what tomorrow bring us. We are far from finished." 

* * *

**9:41 Dragon -Skyhold-**  

It took only two days for Josephine to scramble together a banquet. Not that anyone was surprised, that woman was a master at what she was doing after all.

The people cheered when he passed over the courtyard. Dressed in his usual bare chested outfit that he wore in Skyhold. His dreadlocks sat neatly in a high cord, feathers in bright colors from Seheron were nestled into them (Thanks to Varric and his contacts seemingly able to obtain just about anything from everywhere). He also had a new gold ring in the left side of the lower lip and for the occasion had allowed Dorian to help him put some kohl under his eyes to accent the yellow.

All in all, he had to admit he looked rather handsome. 

When he walked up the stairs he had once been named inquisitor at, the cheers got louder. But it was all sort of tuned out when he saw Bull and his proud loving smile. All these people, and Bull was the only one he cared about, was the only one he saw. Not only because he was a head or two taller than everyone there and had huge horns, but because Bull was Bull and Isala would see him anywhere.

There hadn't been time for the two of them to properly spend more than fleeting moments and quick kisses since the fall of Corypheys. At night Isala just fell asleep on top of his warrior and in the morning he was needed by Josephine before dawn. He hoped to get some quality time with the ex-Qunari soon, it was starting to become a thorn in his side not to be pinned to the wall by the handsome man. 

"Inquisitor, a word." Leliana said calmly and smiled at him.

Isala nodded and they made their way to Solas' rotunda to be out of earshot from the people in the main hall. Yes, he'd most likely never see the rotunda as anything else than Solas'. All the murals there was a constant reminder of their apostate elf.

Well in the comfortable silence of an empty room Isala sighed a breath of relief and let his bearing sag to a more comfortable way of standing. He'd always stand and walk differently if people were to see him. He squared his shoulders and straightened his spine to make sure no one mistook him for a servant.

"There is no trace of Solas anywhere. And I doubt there will be any unless he want us to find him." Leliana said as she leaned her hip gently to the desk.

"Give it up Leliana. If he want our help, he knows where to look for us. He need to be somewhere else and... I can relate to that." He said and smiled at her. "I mean, had things been different..."

"You would have been on your way back to Seheron?" She asked quite amused. 

"Yes." He said with a chuckle. "But, me and Bull... we..." He sighed and crossed his arms but a fond smile pulled his lips. "We don't have a future there. Here we do, a future and our friends. I know there will be a lot left here for me to do for the closest months, maybe years. Nobles no doubt, leftover Venatori, rifts not yet closed, demons and left over templars. But... I do not intend to live and die as inquisitor. When we are done, I join the Bull's chargers." 

"I am glad you will stay a while longer. I fear there are still a lot for you to handle. I wish I could stay with you but I am to be the next divine as you know." She said with a little chuckle. "But I have a new spymaster in mind for you already. He's Antivan and I have a feeling you'll get along well."

Isala chuckled lightly. It would be sad to see her leave, but he was certain she could do many good things as divine. As much as he liked Vivienne, he didn't like her view of mages and magic and the need to lock it up. When it came to Cassandra... he knew her heart laid with the seekers, not becoming the divine. If he had picked her, Cassandra would have let everything else go, and Isala doubted it would make her truly happy. And as long as they got a new spymaster, the inquisition would be fine. Even if he one day left it. 

"If you ever need my help, send me a letter." He said to her with a smile.

"Of course, I treasure our friendship and hope we will continue to see each other from time to time still. But I have taken enough of your time, go and mingle before Josephine complain about the guest of honor being gone."

Isala laughed lightly and they returned back to the main room together. He easily found and chatted with both advisers and inner circle. All of them were happy of course, and Isala was happy that everyone with exception of Vivienne and obviously Solas, would to be staying with the inquisition for a while longer. At least some weeks, to help him with the task of clearing out straggles and rifts. 

They all had new things on their agendas though. Vivienne was planning to return to Val Royeaux. Cassandra was to search for any seekers left alive to rebuild the order. Dorian planned a few weeks back in Tevinter, but he'd be back because there was no Cullen in Tevinter. And Varric would eventually return to his Kirkwall to help rebuild the city and help it's people. He also planned on possibly writing a book, _'This shit is weird, The Isala Shadow story'_. Isala had laughed over that and told him to send him a copy.

Cole, Sera and Blackwall didn't have much in the path of plans and Sera eagerly jumped the chance to stay when Isala offered. Isala even squished her in a tight big hug when she said she would punch him if she started crying. (She did punch him, but the punch was worth her happiness.)  

And Bull... well, Bull wasn't going anywhere right now. Josephine was still having them hired for a while longer. And after that? well, It wouldn't be hard to find contracts close enough for them not having to be gone for more than a few nights a time. Besides, as Isala pointed out, Bull wouldn't be able to find better fights anywhere else.

After a while though, Isala was getting tired of all small talks and even if there was frilly little cakes, he just needed a moment of peace and quiet. He was supposed to make an official stance to the people about the future of the inquisition and he still wasn't sure exactly what to say and the more he though about it, the more stressed did he feel. Soon he'd prefer going face to face with Corypheus and his dragon a second time, over having to hold this speech.

Of course, that's when Bull caught up with him, a large hand missing the half of two fingers grasped his own. It made Isala smile happily because there was nothing like alone time _together_  with Bull.

"Hey Kadan! Got a minute?"

Isala suffocated a snicker behind a little huff of smoke and a cheeky grin.

"Just a minute?" He teased playfully. "You getting old on me?" 

Bull laughed before two large hands pushed him back through the door towards his chambers. Isala laughed lightly and before he knew it he was thrown over Bull's shoulder. It was becoming somewhat usual between the two of them, but Isala loved both to be carried, and the view.

When he was let down again Isala smiled and walked out to the balcony to watch the lowering sun. Bull soon got into his personal space and leaned one hand to the stone above his head and the other wrapped around his middle. Isala leaned his head back to the stone wall and let his own hand rest against Bull's chest while the other on Bull's arm that was securely wrapped around him. 

He had missed this these two days. Just the two of them, having time to breath each other in and just exist together. He happily accepted the kiss Bull pressed to his lips and let his eyes fall shut in pleasure from it all. The sun was heating him up comfortably, Bull smelled like he had bathed (probably to get all the pieces of the fade and demons off his skin) and there was a calm around them, only the faint sounds of the party downstairs.

"You've stood strong against everything. Never even flinched. You are the toughest, wisest, most beautiful dragon elf I've ever met, Kadan... and I can't tell you how proud I'm gonna be, watching you out there, addressing the whole inquisition... with this big old love bite on your neck." Bull said low, almost growling, voice dripping of lust.

In one fluid motion Bull had pulled him off his feet and lifted him high enough for Bull to bite him without bending too much. Isala squirmed but laughed in a very lame struggle, not really wanting to get away. When Bull bit him he just leaned is head to the side to offer better access while grinning widely, wrapping his legs around Bull's middle. 

Oh they'd both be in trouble with Josephine for the large mark on his neck but it made him happy. That was enough to weigh it up. Besides, love bites and marks from Bull wasn't something unusual in Isala's daily appearance by now and the masses had stopped wondering about them. Now and then Cole would be confused over them, but other than that, people just roller their eyes or smiled amused.

"You're an ass!" He said but couldn't get the happiness out of his own voice.

"You like it." Bull hummed while inspecting his neck. 

"Yes. Time for a quicky?" 

Bull just laughed in reply and Carried him over to his desk. Oh there was time for a quicky alright. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are following this series I will also start throw up the years Isala lived in Seheron. The years he served with Bull and the chargers. A few au's on what would happen if Isala had met Hissrad at Seheron, a few modern aus and so on and so on in separate works. 
> 
> I hope you will enjoy all of it and if you want to read about anything specific about Isala just let me know and I'll do my best to write it! :) You are all so wonderful and amazing!

**Author's Note:**

> So, a several people have commented on my spelling. I know I have troubles here and there.  
> Please take into count that I for one, is not an English speaking person to begin with, I speak an entirely different language. Two, suffer from dyslexia and thus have a hard time to see which word goes where. 
> 
> Since/Sense  
> Loose/Lose  
> Rouge/Rogue 
> 
> Are the three things I mess up the most at. 
> 
> Now I don't mind that you people tell me that I misspelled or put the wrong word somewhere but please there is no need to be rude about it, give me a heads up and I will try to think of said error to the next time.  
> Any rude comment will unfortunately be deleted. 
> 
> Now I am so thankful for you all who have read and commented and given this work Kudos, you are all amazing Thank you!
> 
> If anyone want to ask anything, make suggestions or requests you can now do that here:   
> http://isalahadow.tumblr.com/


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